Ten Weeks
by dotheyreally
Summary: After two years of being married under The Malfoy Marriage Contract, Draco and Hermione are finally free of marriage ties. But when Hermione plans to leave, Draco realizes that he has only ten weeks to change... and maybe win something of hers in return
1. The Contract Ends

**Disclaimer: I do not own HP. :-)  
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**A/N: Second novel-length wooo! :) I need inspiration, readers. Reviews to get this writer's block a-dissipating please?  
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Draco Malfoy never knew that he would ever survive anything. He never knew he would survive the effects of humiliation after Harry Potter refused to ally with him in first year because it was something about the boy wonder knowing about _sort._ He never knew he could live down with the fact that his father took control of his life and how he was still chained to a life he didn't want to have in the end. He never knew he could survive the insurmountable power that is Lord Voldemort. He never knew that he could victor himself despite the fact that he was tasked to kill Dumbledore as a part of redemption for his father's low blow.

And yet he did survive all of these events.

He was able to hate Harry Potter and his loyal companions Ron "Weasel" Weasley and Hermione "Mudblood" Granger, finally kicked his father out of his life (he's currently imprisoned in Azkaban), potions master Severus Snape had done the dirty deed of murdering Dumbledore due to an unbreakable vow involving Draco's mother Narcissa, and Voldemort had finally met Death once and for all after the golden trio found all seven Horcruxes and destroyed them all with Harry being the last of them.

And as he glanced nastily around the room, he knew that although those events will never be overrun by the little daily mishaps here and there, he knew that the mere fact he was standing in this very area was because of some stupid contract his family had.

_The Malfoy Marriage Contract._

He slapped his face in frustration as he twirled the quill idly in his hand, glancing at the lengthy parchment in front of him. He sighed loudly as his lawyer Horace Flaherty paced the room patiently, despite his pleas to his client to sign the papers.

And in the end, he thought that his father would stop taking control of his life. He just had to intercept his son's peaceful living once again with an emergency.

_"What is it that made you want to see me so badly, Father?" Draco hissed as he adjusted his cravat coolly yet nervously due to the presence of soul-sucking Dementors in the prison area._

_ Lucius, always the confident one, twirled the limp noodle on his deformed silverware (although one couldn't call it silverware anymore due to its blackened nature for being in Azkaban for so long. Yes, even forks get their color sucked out by those lifeless monsters.) and stared blankly at his son._

_ "I want you to read this."_

_ Draco glanced at the golden brown, rolled-up parchment in his father's hand. He took it fiercely from his pater and read through the paper._

_ "Is this some kind of joke?"_

_ "Do you really think that this is some kind of merriment?" Lucius replied, his tone laced with cold. "I never 'joke' about anything. Where have you been the last twenty-six years?"_

_ Draco sighed._

_ "You have gotten me married to that vile thing you call Lord Voldemort," Draco replied just as icily, rolling up the parchment and slamming it on the table. "And now you want me to get married so I can keep the Malfoy name intact?"_

_ "And to keep the fortune."_

_ "In three days?" Draco snapped. "Where the hell do I get a wife in three days?"_

_ "You claim you're smart," Lucius barked. "Prove it to me!"_

_ "Do you think that marriage behaves through dictation of paper? It's not easy finding women of this family's ideals!"_

_ Lucius just drummed his fingers noiselessly on the table as Draco continued his rant._

_ "And where the hell am I finding a pureblood wife? Millicent Bulstrode is thankfully married to some bloke off the street or I don't know where… I don't care. Lucy Haverick is married to Peter Travers… and even Pansy Parkinson found my mate Blaise Zabini!"_

_ "They never found each other," Lucius retorted. "You set them up."_

_ "Only because I never intended and wanted to marry her! I had to make sure that she is not and will never be available for me!"_

_ "What is so wrong with Pansy Parkinson?"_

_ "She's a chaser? I am a Seeker because I like getting girls, not gotten by girls."_

_ "Spoken like a true Malfoy." Lucius smirked._

_ "But look, back to the subject," Draco relaxed, knowing the air of tension will disappear briefly. "A marriage contract? Why do you have to put me through this?"_

_ "Were you even listening?"_

_ "Well, Father," Draco replied, reopening the contract. "You have to help me secure a wife immediately, since you're going to put me through…"_

_ He ran his fingers through the words to search for the timeframe._

_ "SIX MONTHS?" Draco cried, tossing the paper aside in shock, his head spinning and he felt lightheaded. "You want me to 'love' a woman for six months?"_

_ "Yes." Lucius replied as if it were just a regular decision to make._

_ "Why me? Couldn't you have ended it?"_

_ "And lose the fortune and the name? Are you sick in the nutter?" Lucius sighed. "Your mother and I have not gone through this just to waste the Malfoy time—"_

_ "You and Mother were a contract couple?"_

_ "That is not important right now," Lucius snapped. "Now good for you, I have found a suitable partner for you—"_

_ "Please do not say Ginny Weasley," Draco interrupted as he thumbed his fingers through the Daily Prophet. "I have better things to do than to listen to that blood traitor whine constantly and—"_

_ "For one who claims to be a well-read person, you sure have gotten the description a tad out of context," Lucius replied dully as he swatted the paper out of Draco's hands. "She's married to Harry Potter."_

_ Draco breathed a sigh of relief._

_ "I don't keep up with celebrity gossip, Father." Draco growled._

_ "So you consider Potter to be a celebrity?"_

_ "That is beside the point!"_

_ "She is a little out of our bloodline, Draco."_

_ "Half-blood?"_

_ Lucius shook his head slowly._

_ "Oh, Merlin, please don't say—"_

_ "She's a mudblood."_

_ Draco's heart thudded._

_ "Are you that desperate to keep—"_

_ "It's Hermione Granger."_

Draco shut his eyes as he remembered the way he screamed more than a thousand profanities after his father dropped the bomb on his new faux wife.

_Hermione Jean Granger._

He knew that even if Harry Potter was the main archenemy attraction, he felt that Hermione had the greatest negative effect in his life. She is his number one foe both in academics and in loyalty. He knew that he was smart enough for his own good. In fact, his intelligence level could make him capable of being number one but then no, the Gryffindor brat had to get his spot.

And who could forget that they fought on opposing sides?

"Would you stop contemplating there and sign the papers?" Hermione huffed, her arms crossed. "You're wasting my time."

Oh yes, she's his faux wife.

"Oh, put a lid on it, Granger," Draco snapped as he reread the contract for what seemed like the tenth time. "Some things like these take time."

"It's been six months since you two have been put under this kind of legality and you still hate each other's internals?" Attorney Flaherty chimed in as he sat back down in the leather chair, his hands on the table.

"I'm glad I survived six months with him, period." Hermione replied irritably.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, stop trying to pretend you don't want the pureblood life!"

"Like I _wanted _it," Hermione retorted. "Impish, ignorant snobs!"

"Like you would know who we are," Draco sneered as his eyes narrowed. "Filthy little mud—"

"I think we should stop now." Horace added.

"Here you again with the same insults," Hermione replied, ignoring Horace's interjection. "Have you any new ones? I doubt your brain can handle brand new knowledge! Or has it even contained any form of brilliance?"

"I could've beat you in Transfiguration if it weren't for your loyalty points of 10. I thought Gryffindors were just and right. Maybe you're the exception."

"Don't you dare bring the point system into this! I worked hard for those points. Not like you know what hard work is. You just charmed Pansy Parkinson into doing your homework all the time! Or Millicent Bulstrode!"

"Can you help it if I look good all the time?" Draco smirked nastily as his temper rose. "Unlike your frumpish sense of style!"

"I think we should stop now!"

"You call your spit-like tresses fashionable? It's like you slicked slug waste on your head."

"Oh, so you notice my hair? Tell me, Granger, what's it like staring at a Pureblood for the first time?"

"Quite wonderful, actually," Hermione replied sarcastically as she tossed her bushy hair to the side. "The mere sight of you and your family burn the eyes of out of my sockets."

"Like mudbloods know what quality people are!"

"You are one to talk to, you snobbish arse—"

"ENOUGH!" Horace Flaherty boomed as he slammed his briefcase on the long, oak table. "Could you two at least act decent? You have a son for Merlin's sake!"

"I may love Scorpius with all my heart," Hermione sniffed snappishly. "But let's not forget where he came from."

"Miss Granger, didn't he come from you?"

Hermione glared at her ex-faux-husband and he looked away, cursing.

"Oh, let's just say he came from one of my husband's many concubines."

"Shut up, Granger!" Draco stood up, furious as he balled his fists.

"Isn't it true, Malfoy?" Hermione sighed heavily. "But who cares? We're going through with the divorce."

"Are you two sure about this?" Attorney Flaherty took a new white quill and _Accio'd _extra copies of divorce papers.

"Yes!" they replied in unison.

"Are you _really _sure?" the lawyer replied, hoping some god would cast a miracle and let them decide otherwise.

"Do you think we're pulling your leg?" Draco replied snarkily. "Yes we want a divorce and that's final. I don't think I can stand my faux wife any longer."

"And I cannot stand my faux husband any longer than he can stand me. Hurry with it, Horace! Come now!"

Horace sighed heavily and wrote their names on their respective blanks.

"You're going to regret this, you two," Horace said as he handed the papers to them and they snatched them up quickly with quills in hand.

"Are you serious, Horace?" Draco replied. "Do you think I'd want to be stuck with Miss Bratty Brainiac here?"

"And do you think I want to be stuck with _Mister Bratty_?" Hermione snarled.

"Could you two just agree on something?" Horace added tiredly, obviously fed up with their childish feud. "You're divorcees for Merlin's sake, at least act civil."

Draco and Hermione dropped their quills and thought for a moment.

"I liked her last retort on Mister Bratty."

"Thank you, Malfoy."

"Now we have something in common!"

They signed the needed blanks and they whooped as they handed in their divorce papers.

"Finally, I'm a free man!" Draco clapped his hands together as he grabbed his leather trenchcoat from the seat. He grabbed his wand and shot fireworks out of the tip, leaving Hermione very annoyed.

"Please take your lights somewhere else, ferret." She grabbed her coat and her bag and walked out of the conference room.

"Huffy, aren't we, Granger?" Draco smirked.

"I'm not pigheaded enough to celebrate divorces even if it's involving me and someone I have hated for the past 10 or so years. Now, get out of the way. I have Ministry work to do."

"See you, love."

Hermione cringed and continued on her way.


	2. The Morning After

**Disclaimer: I do not own HP. :-)**

"Dad?"

Draco groaned as he rolled over to the other side of the bed. He had moved out of the Malfoy Manor after he started with the marriage contract and also due to the reason of escaping his past. His mother had died in the war just after she swore her loyalty to Harry Potter and got herself murdered by the Dark Lord.

After the War, Draco had lived alone with his son Scorpius in the dreary old mansion and he would get terrible nightmares. Actually, they were vivid recollections of how his mother was tortured and then killed.

He could still hear the screams, cries, and pleas of his mother to stop the Dark Lord's _Crucio _spell and Voldemort, surprisingly obedient, ceased the suffering and _Avada Kedavra_'d her in a snap.

He ran to his mother immediately, his legs shaking as he walked and sat down by her side, the mansion floor cold due to the marble. They were in the Manor itself, facing off Dumbledore's Army led by Potter himself. That notorious Bellatrix Lestrange, due to the show of blatant loyalty to the boy wonder, also killed their servant Dobby. Actually, Dobby was the Malfoy family's ex-servant due to Harry freeing him with a sock in second year. That proved a useless argument for loosening the chandelier and letting it set harm on the family because the family still demanded respect from the elf.

Draco sunk lower into his pillow as he remembered it all. He shook his head to stop the influx of thoughts running and coursing through his conscious, his hands gripping tightly on the material and he stuck his head up and looked at his son, eyes grey like Draco's, but unlike his father, Scorpius' eyes were full of innocence and naivete, scared to face things. He had yet to learn a lot from his father.

Draco inhaled erratically before replying to his son.

"Yes, Scorpius?"

Scorpius sat on the bed and looked at his father, eyes sheepish as he pointed at the clock.

"It's eight AM."

Draco raised one eyebrow.

"So? What's with 8am?" Draco groaned again as he laid back down on the king-size bed, the satin and velvety sheets comforting his body, tempting him back into slumber.

"It's—"

"Have you any idea that it's an ungodly hour?"

Scorpius sighed impatiently.

"It's Monday."

Draco's head shot up instantly, his eyes tilting towards Scorpius.

"And why didn't you inform me at an earlier time? Do you know that you have school?"

"I'm home-schooled, Dad."

"Since when?" Draco sat up as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and he crossed his arms on his chest. "Aren't you already in regular school?"

Scorpius raised an eyebrow.

"Didn't Mum discuss this with you?"

"Mum?" Draco repeated, his eyes narrowing. "Mum, as in _Granger_?"

"Are you drunk or something? Of course Mum Granger, who else?" Scorpius replied. "I don't consider _Astoria_ as my mother. That horrid b—"

"You are already swearing at such a young age!" Draco snapped. "Please stop the words."

"Why?" Scorpius retorted. "You say it to mum all the time lest you mutter them in your sleep!"

"How can you hear muttering, S?" Draco asked.

"Oh, let's just say, you walk outside of the bedroom to get a glass of water [_which you could have Accio'd_] and you start muttering all those curse words!" Scorpius replied thoughtfully.

"So, wait a minute, getting back to the subject," Draco said, knowing that it was such a humiliating experience to be outsmarted by your own son. "You're put on home school again? Didn't we stop putting you in it since Mum and I…"

Scorpius raised his right eyebrow.

"Divorced?" Scorpius finished emotionlessly. "Yes. I was supposed to be in regular school but Mum doesn't trust the educational system of the other wizarding schools that opened after Hogwarts closed."

Draco huffed as he remembered the destroyed rubble that was Hogwarts. He remembered yet again the War and its aftereffects on everyone and the school he called home. He hated admitting to himself that after so many years of neglecting his father's decision for moving to Durmstrang (another Wizarding school that focuses on the Dark Arts itself rather than defending against it) and heeding his mother's wishes of studying under Dumbledore's wing. He hated how everyone was so _babied_ at the school, learning defense instead of mastering the evil craft itself.

_That was not the real world_, he had thought before.

But in a way, he had grown to love the school. He loved how he was treated as a superior figure by his Slytherin friends, he loved how he was favored by Severus Snape (and how he belittles Potter and the Gryffindors), and how he was finally on top for once in Potions hence almost tying grade levels with Hermione Granger.

_Damn Sprout and her leniency towards Gryffindors._

Draco shook that thought off his mind and stood up from the bed and walked over to the mahogany closet.

"What are you doing, Dad?" Scorpius asked as he followed Draco. "Waiting for the Death Eaters to come round again through that thing?"

Draco chortled.

"On the contrary, son," Draco said as he grabbed the nearest white sleeved shirt and contemplating between two pairs of trousers. "We're going to Mum's house."

Scorpius widened his eyes.

"Why?"

Draco splayed his outfit on the king-size bed, nabbed his wand, and _Scourgified_ the entire room, hitting Scorpius with a bit of the charm.

"Ah, Dad!" Scorpius frowned as he saw soap bubbles emitting from his arm. "Watch it."

"Because she has to know that home school can't teach you everything."

"But she's the most brilliant of her age, remember?" Scorpius protested, wishing he never said anything. "I mean, Professor Dumbledore said that she could start handling Hogwarts Home School all by herself! And don't you have work today? Your business can't live without you in tow, remember?"

Draco sighed as he massaged his temples, attempting to relieve the stress as his six-year old son looked at him with pleading eyes that said, _please don't go to Mum's house_.

He knew that this was going to be his first day as head of Malfoy Inc., ever since Lucius had been imprisoned in Azkaban. He knew he had to step into very big shoes, knowing that Lucius had started the business already in his forties and the job was quite demanding. And was twenty-six year old Draco Malfoy ready?

But he knew he had to settle this matter first. Honestly, _home school_? As if Granger wasn't already acting like a smart arse!

She would have a piece of his mind, he would make sure of it.

Draco tightened his cravat a little too tightly and coughed a little. He loosened the knot a bit and cursed under his breath and blamed his brief choking fit on his anger towards Hermione Granger.

He rolled his sleeves up until his toned forearms and he fixed his belt as Scorpius waited anxiously.

"Are you done?" Scorpius sighed heavily, knowing a fight would brew upon their arrival into the Granger loft.

"Come now, off to the fireplace we go."

Twenty-four year old Hermione Granger stared at the growing amount of paperwork and tried to calm herself down by staring at the new paintings she bought from Diagon Alley but it wasn't helping.

Even if shooting stars were flying around the house.

Hermione sighed as she gazed at the one entitled _Night Sky_ by Victoire Russelio. She knew that shooting star would fly for about ten more minutes before it would return back to the painting. She was dressed in a light pink button down blouse with ruffles on the front topped off with a crème-colored skirt and black heels, all ready for work.

But she _herself_ wasn't ready. She still had ten pages worth of paperwork to finish and don't even let her begin her rant on the other twenty pages on the week's reports on Magical Maladies.

Oh, balancing two jobs was difficult. Yes, those two raked in a lot of fortune for her but she knew that the stress would be getting to her soon.

Unlike her prattish ex-husband who would still look young as ever while abusing his employees to work harder while he just sits there, watching like a snake.

Yes, not a hawk, but a snake. Rowena Ravenclaw would be turning in her grave if Draco Malfoy would ever be considered bird-like in any form.

She brushed angry thoughts from her head and started ridding her study of unnecessary weekend reads and other letters from the mail. She knew that she had about two hours left before she was due at the Ministry of Magic but knowing her intelligence capabilities, she smirked, remembering her brilliance.

After fifteen minutes of going back and forth cleaning and clearing her workplace, she finally sat down and got to work on the fifteen-page Maladies report. She listed down the Malady codes and filled in the necessary insurance papers to be sent to St. Mungo's. She hummed a Celestina Warbeck tune as she perused through the papers and found herself finished in forty minutes. She clapped her hands in victorious excitement as she enchanted the letters to their respective envelopes and sealed them with a Sticking Charm. She then waved her wand again to transfer the sealed letters into her office bag so that she won't forget them lest she immerse herself again in the heavy case study worth ten pages.

She considered ten pages to be a breeze for her but this study boggled her mind the whole weekend, not finding any loophole. She worked through the first five pages and stopped when she reached half of the sixth page. She tried not to think guilty thoughts when she said she'd stop working on it.

_ After all, it was due two weeks from today_, she thought. Yes, she still couldn't help her workaholic self.

With an hour to spare, she slipped on her coat and got her bag from the red armchair in the living room before fixing her hair in the foyer. She applied a bit of lip liner onto her already pink lips and grabbed her keys from the bowl. She knew that magic wouldn't have been enough for house protection and the way she had to protect her house from Death Eaters six years ago got her stuck on the muggle + magic protection.

She then checked her bag for the third time for her paperwork and when the papers were still intact, she opened the door.

And what she saw on her doorstep got her blood boiling. She looked at the clock and she prayed to Merlin she wouldn't be late.

"What do you want, Malfoy?"


	3. A Last Minute Squabble

**Disclaimer: I do not own HP. :-)**

Six-year old Scorpius Malfoy looked at the stone-cold face of his father as they were walking out of the Diagon Alley fireplace. His father then _Scourgified_ them both and then stomped off, leaving his poor son running nimbly to catch up. The last time he had seen his father glare like that was when he caught Astoria sneaking out of the house with her bags and trunks in hand, her heels pattering noisily on the pavement.

He was four years old then when he was exposed to the brutality of marriage squabbles and he hated it. He hated it when his father would get all steamed up and would start spewing curse words here and there. He knew there was a better way to handle arguments. They could always just sit down and talk about it rationally.

He had hidden behind his father's elaborate bookcase near the dining room in the Malfoy Manor because Astoria wanted to live there.

_Crash. _

_ Slam._

_ Crack._

_ Scorpius couldn't breathe as he watched sparks clashing in the kitchen and he kept his head down and his index fingers plugged into his ears as he heard glasses flying and breaking onto the floor and furniture being shoved and pushed around._

_ "What is wrong with the Malfoy marriage contract, Astoria?" Draco snapped as he ducked behind one of the dining chairs, avoiding contact with the plate that Astoria was throwing. "Afraid of commitment?"_

_ Scorpius saw Astoria gripping the second plate, her face flushed with increased anger._

_ "You do realize what I'm entering into?"_

_ "Oh, I don't know, Greengrass," Draco sneered, sarcasm seething in the words coming out of his mouth. "Marriage?"_

_ "Why should I be forced into a marriage with you?" Astoria retorted._

_ Scorpius saw his father get up from behind the chair, his glare poisonous. _

_ "Because we have a son."_

_ Scorpius' heart thudded nervously in his chest and all the while flooded with increased love and loyalty for his father._

_ Astoria laughed emptily. "A son?"_

_ "Are you that stupid not to realize it?"_

_ Scorpius shook his head as he held a yellowed and tattered copy of "Quidditch Through The Ages", his father's favorite book. _

_ "What did Dad see in that vile witch?" Scorpius muttered to himself as he watched on, clutching the book tightly. "She's not even smart, she's not capable of being a good mother…"_

_ Scorpius was too absorbed in his own critique about Astoria, he didn't hear the continuation of his parents' heated argument but he had never heard his father sound so angry._

_ He peeked again after he heard a fist pound the table._

_ "Don't. You. Ever. Describe. My. Son. In. That. Manner. Ever. Again." Draco hissed poisonously, his glare vicious, his hands looked ready to kill._

_ "You think you're such a special one, Draco?" Astoria snarled, her hands on her hips. "Just because your family was torn at the very start of your childhood—"_

_ Scorpius didn't know of his inate strength until he ran outside and shoved Astoria to the floor._

_ "You brat! What do you think you're doing?" Astoria struggled to get up from the floor but was pushed down as Scorpius sat on her stomach. "GET OUT!"_

_ "Don't be mean to Daddy, I love him!"_

_ Astoria was writhing on the floor and was flailing her arms as if in a tantrum and Draco, afraid Scorpius might get hurt, grabbed him by the waist and carried him, taking three steps back. _

_ "Get out."_

_ Astoria got up slowly, her eyebrows still knit with frustration._

_ "What did you say?"_

_ Draco kept his mouth shut while Astoria glanced at her son._

_ "Tell me, Scorpius," Astoria sneered, eyes glaring. "What did he say?"_

_ "Scorpius…"_

"Scorpius?"

Scorpius found himself gripping his father's leg, eyes shut as they arrived at Garrison Street in Muggle London.

"Scorpius?" Draco called his son again, tapping him on the shoulder.

Scorpius' eyes flew open, returning to reality.

"Oh, sorry, Dad," Scorpius smiled sheepishly. "I didn't mean to hug your leg too much."

"It's all right," Draco ruffled his son's platinum blond hair and held his hand after. "Let's go now."

But as Draco tugged at Scorpius' hand, he found Scorpius' feet planted firmly on the ground, unmoving.

"Come now, Mum's going to leave any minute." Draco said impatiently, tapping his foot and then tugging at his son's arm again.

"No." Scorpius replied.

"Why not?" Draco asked. "Come, son, I'm going to be late for work!"

"I don't want you both to fight."

Draco knew this was inevitable so he twisted his words a little bit.

"Well, it's not a fight, Scorpius," Draco lied. "It's going to be a heated argument."

"Heated?" Scorpius crossed his arms on his chest and tugged at his cravat. "Are you going to leave me out in the cold?"

Draco laughed at Scorpius' innocent answer and tugged again at his son's arm. "You don't have to listen."

"You promise it's just an argument?"

Draco sighed.

"Promise."

And with that, they continued walking up until the house with the dark grey roof and pink walled exterior at the end of the neighborhood.

Draco knocked on the door, the sounds loud and angry. Scorpius covered his ears due to the loudness and they both waited until a woman of twenty-four opened the door. Hermione Granger, with her hair tied up, opened the door and answered Draco's icy glare with shooting hate rays from her eyes.

She bent down and greeted Scorpius first.

"Hello, darling," Hermione said soothingly. "How's my boy?"

Scorpius hugged his stepmother tightly and kissed her on the right cheek, then let go and smiled widely.

"Mum!" Scorpius trilled. "I miss you so so much!"

And then he giggled as he played with Hermione's curls.

"You look pretty as always, Mummy." Scorpius giggled.

"And you are the sweetest, most handsome boy in the world," Hermione kissed him on the top of his head but received a raised eyebrow from her stepson. "What, darling?"

"You forgot to say, _as always_." Scorpius replied cheekily, whistling.

Hermione laughed.

"How modest of you, love, but yes, as always," Hermione stood up and glared at Draco. "What brings you here?"

"Daddy's kind of mad that you put me under home school, Mum." Scorpius recited.

"Oh, is he?" Hermione relished in the red-faced anger her ex-husband was showing. "Well, tell him it's non-negotiable."

"What does that mean?"

"Scorpius," Draco said, turning away from Hermione and looked at his son. "Do you want to go raid Mum's freezer for iced sorbet?"

Scorpius clapped his hands in delight.

"You have sorbet, Mum?"

Hermione's eyes shot up and Draco lifted his wand subtly and aimed for the foyer table. And there appeared two tubs of strawberry sorbet in ice-laden containers.

"Voila, son," Draco said as he pointed at the sorbet. "Now, go eat it outside in the garden, will you? Mum and I will have a talk."

"Okay." Scorpius said, not listening as he spooned a huge scoop of strawberry sorbet into his mouth, running outside and sitting under the swing outside near the roses.

After Draco barged in and shut the door, Hermione crossed her arms in silent anger.

"Have you any idea how much you're going to cost me for my tardiness?"

"A little red mark on your logout card?" Draco sneered. "Grow up, Granger. We have more important matters to talk about."

"Like what? How your bed can never be tidy? Or how Scorpius is better a Malfoy than you ever were?"

"I was talking about _home school_," Draco replied, ignoring her comments. "How could you make decisions when you are not even the sole guardian of my son?"

"We've already discussed this, Malfoy," Hermione said coldly. "I don't trust the present school systems. Blame yourself for what happened to Hogwarts."

"Have you any idea how much of a loser Scorpius will turn out if he has no idea whatsoever of the concept of socializing?"

"Socializing is not necessary in his learning process. Not like you knew that."

"And how would you know how much socialization can affect learning if you yourself didn't know how to socialize, Granger?"

Hermione's lips pursed.

"Why did you think I never knew how to socialize?"

"You had Potter and Weasley for friends, need I say more?"

"Don't you start with Harry and Ron!"

"Well, don't you start meddling in mine and Scorpius' business then!" Draco snarled. "You live your _own_ life and let me live my own! Stop trying to control his life!"

"I insist on home school, Malfoy," Hermione replied icily. "It will help his knowledge grow. And maybe yours too when Scorpius starts answering your work for you."

Draco clenched his fists.

"All right, you win, Granger," Draco hissed. "But I will get even with you soon enough."

Hermione rolled her eyes at his immaturity and checked the wall clock. She gasped! She was already five minutes late.

"GET OUT!" Hermione pushed Draco out the door. "I'm five minutes late because of you!"

"Oh, grow up." Draco replied lazily as Hermione's face grew red with anger. Draco relished in Hermione's fury and saw Scorpius still eating the sorbet.

"Scorpius?" Draco called as Hermione tapped her foot impatiently. "Let's go now. Mum doesn't want to be late."

Hermione bent down again and kissed her stepson on the head.

"Be a good boy, okay, love?" Hermione whispered in his ear as she embraced him. "I'll see you next week for your first lesson."

"Okay, Mum! I love you." Scorpius chortled as he kissed her on the cheek.

Hermione smiled.

"I love you too."

"Okay, enough with the semantics," Draco complained, hating the fact that his son seemed to love his mudblood of an ex-wife. "Let's go now."

"Malfoy." Hermione said curtly.

"Granger." He replied in return, knowing their relationship as exes would never turn out great in any way.

And as they went on to continue their day, a letter would arrive in the mail that night.

That would change their entire relationship forever.


	4. New Post

**Disclaimer: I do not own HP. :-)****  
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"Are you joking?" Blaise Zabini exclaimed as he watched his friend's face continuously etch itself in anxiety and increased petulance. They were at a café called _Le leve-tot_ (if translated will say "Early Riser") and the two were sipping brewed coffee made by the exquisite Madame Levina who was known back in her hometown of Nice, France as the "most splendid coffeemaker in the area." Witches and wizards from France (and from different parts of the world) would Apparate during unadulterated times in Nice just to get a cuppa in the original _Le leve-tot_ branch.

Draco couldn't think straight due to the distractions around him. Children were screaming and crying while the blenders' sounds were quite irritating to hear. Yes, he was in a café. Damned meeting place forever. But all raucous noises aside, he was disturbed and enraged that Hermione Granger had already gone another step above him. That morning, after Draco had brought Scorpius to Hermione's house, he was quite suspicious with the way Hermione was grinning.

It seemed so unlike her to grin such an evillish grin. But then again, she _was_ Hermione Granger. Anything was possible. Or at least, _she_ can make anything possible.

"_What's with your happiness today, Granger?" Draco asked idly as he twirled his wand in his right hand. "Finally getting your buck teeth removed?"_

_Hermione still kept the grin on her face despite his insult._

"_More like a heavy weight had been removed," Hermione replied, her voice oddly full of calm. "And a heavier weight will be removed once you get off my premises."_

_Draco raised his eyebrow questioningly and checked his body for any inactive hexes Hermione might have planted on him. Scorpius was quite distracted with the swing, his cheers and squeals loud and gleeful. _

"_Goodbye, son," Draco waved at his swinging junior. "I'll pick you up at six pm. Give your mother a hard time for me, will you?"_

_This time, Hermione frowned._

"_Get out, Malfoy."_

_Draco smirked and then snickered._

"_That's the Granger I know."_

_And with that, he Disapparated._

How could he not suspect that? How could he not suspect that she would be that devious to file a case? Draco groaned in frustration and lowered his head, gingerly slamming his fist on the table. How was he so damn clueless?

"She is pretty intelligent," Blaise drummed his fingers thoughtfully. "May I see that letter again?"

Draco, with head still down, handed him the letter and Blaise fingered with the now torn sides of the maroon-hued envelope. The seal was cracked at the left side due to anxiety and the letter was crumpled and folded due to the continuous rereads done by his best friend.

"From the Desk of Rufus Scrimgeour, Minister of Magic…" Blaise began as he read the colorful letter header and he sneezed due to the golden dust that came out after. "Stupid pixie powder."

Draco's head shot up.

"Rufus Scrimgeour?" he asked. "Rufus Scrimgeour?"

"Yes, Rufus Scrimgeour," Blaise replied idly as he read through the letter for what seemed like the tenth time. "Why? Did I read the name wrong?"

"You've read it just fine." Draco moaned again.

First the case and now this case was under Rufus Scrimgeour? He should have updated himself with the officials in the Ministry.

"Now, may I continue, mate?" Blaise said as he sipped his brewed coffee. "I have to get going in a bit and I'd like to see you writh due to the words in this fine fine piece of work."

"You sadist," Draco snapped. "My best friend's a sadist?"

"I try so very hard." Blaise replied lazily.

Draco motioned for him to continue and lowered his head again.

_Dear Mr. Draco Malfoy and Miss Hermione Granger,_

_ It has come to my attention that you were a couple under Marriage Contract #7262733, Status: Inevitable, Timeframe: Six months or entitled the Malfoy Marriage Contract. And I believe that Horace Flaherty handled your divorce case with the following agreements listed below:_

_ Mr. Draco Malfoy is the sole custodian to Scorpius Malfoy (son) and Miss Hermione Granger presides over school decisions of Scorpius Malfoy. Scorpius Malfoy is age six at the moment and will therefore have no say in the decision of his parents lest his father or mother agree with son's decision._

_ I have received a complaint from Miss Hermione Granger about the custody of Scorpius Malfoy. She had written a letter of appeal that falls under Category 2872, which pleads for __**joint custody**__. Since she has benefits as your former spouse, Mister Malfoy, I approved the case. You will both attend a hearing on the twenty-fifth of July and I, as Minister, will listen to your pleadings._

_ If you are late, Mr. Malfoy, I will assume that you have decided to go with Miss Granger's decision of __**joint custody…"**_

_"All's fair in love and war, Rufus Scrimgeour." _Hermione finished the letter with a flourish, her eyes sparkling and her grin victorious. Harry gasped and Ron applauded.

"That was _beautiful_, Hermione," Ron wiped a faux tear from his eye. "Simply _beautiful_, well-written… I can't believe I'm saying this but Rufus Scrimgeour deserves some kind of book award!"

"I'm curious, Hermione," Harry replied as he bit down on a Pumpkin Pasty and drank his pumpkin juice. The trio was in the Ministry café because Hermione wanted to get together and of course, share the reply Rufus Scrimgeour had written for Hermione's plea concerning joint custody. "How did you manage to get Scrimgeour on your side?"

Hermione propped her hands onto the round, wooden table and grinned. "I had a huge plan."

"Well, obviously," Ron rolled his eyes. "You're Hermione Granger!"

"Thanks for that well-known fact, Ron."

"Obnoxious, as always."

"Oh, Ronald, don't be such a priss!"

"I'm not being a priss! I'm just voicing out the fact that you're being so—"

"All right, you two," Harry interrupted calmly, not wanting to hear his best friends argue. "I want to hear Hermione's story. How did you do it?"

"Well, as you may know, I'm head of the Magical Maladies Department at the Ministry," Hermione began. "Of course, you two already know that being my closest mates."

Harry and Ron nodded.

"Scrimgeour never wanted me in that position because he's always voiced my political potential and abilities, especially during the time of dear old Muggle Doris Wallace and her case on banning wands in her household."

"Ah, yes, poor Jo Wallace," Harry shook his head in pity, remembering the multiple buckets of tears she shed in the courtroom when Doris had accused her of hexing their house cat and making her run amok during an important dinner party with Doris' employers. His heart stung at the memory of his own experience on living with a family of Wizard haters. Jo Wallace, like him, was Doris Wallace's niece and due to Jo's parents dying in a car crash, had to move to her aunt's residence and suffered eleven years of torture from Doris who hated magic of any sort, even the commercial rabbit-popping-out-of-the-hat bit. But luckily for her, she had contacted the Ministry of Magic through owl post and pleaded her case immediately. "But serves Doris right for treating her that way."

"Mm-hmm." Hermione nodded as she bit on the chocolate-chip frog that was placed near her pumpkin juice drink.

"So whatever happened to Doris, Harry?" Ron asked, curious.

"Well," Hermione interrupted as Harry opened his mouth to speak. "She was sent to one of our many Squib academies to practice the fine art of magic. Or at least the beginner's kind."

"Much like Filch." Harry chimed in quickly, in fear that Hermione would interrupt him again.

"And then what happened?"

"Doris really wanted Jo to go through this new technology we have called the Magi-Usurper."

"A Magi-what?" Ron asked, clearly befuddled by the unfamiliar term… and machinery.

"It is a piece of work in the form of a Dementor—"

"WHAT?" Ron bellowed.

"Don't worry, Ron," Hermione waved him off. "It's really only used for criminals."

"But why did Doris want Jo to suffer through the Magi… whatever?" Harry probed.

"A Magi-_Usurper_, Harry," Hermione corrected. "The purpose of this machinery is to remove the victim or prisoner's innate magic so as not to perform any kind of escapist spells to get out of prison. Much similar to what happened in our fourth year."

"What about their wands?"

"We take them away, remember?"

"Oh, right," Harry replied sheepishly, briefly forgetting he was an Auror at the Ministry. "Sorry. Go on."

"And Doris did have the right to plead for the Magi-Usurper on Jo," Hermione continued, sighing sadly as she recalled the memory. "Because according to Chapter 1028, Paragraph 372, Sub-heading 2821, Line number 282 of the Ministry rule book, the pleader can turn in the one at fault for the Magi-Usurper if and only if the rules in the Ministry are broken. And since Jo was a minor when the hex happened, Doris had the right to apply for that punishment."

"Wow, and then what happened?"

"Well, long story short," Hermione replied. "I battled long and hard for Jo not to suffer through the punishment and in the end, I won the case after five months of research and loopholing."

"Amazing you are!" Harry and Ron trilled in unison.

"Scrimgeour was very impressed with my work," Hermione said, _Scourgifying _her hands clean of the chocolate icing from the frog treat. "And at that time I was married to Malfoy. He never really favored the family."

"_No one_ favored their family."

"Right," Hermione acknowledged by nodding. "And Scrimgeour was on _my_ case for months. He bordered on batty trying to get me to transfer to the position as head of the Magical Enforcement Department. He knew how I suffered terribly in that marriage so he struck me a deal: He will help me with the joint custody case if I agree to take that Head position."

"So that means you're the new Head."

Hermione nodded, smiling. "I start tomorrow."

"Is this why you called us?"

Hermione grinned a sheepish grin this time.

"Well, admittedly, yes," Hermione nodded. "That and the fact that I haven't had a decent teatime with my best friends."

"Well, I do hope you have a great sleep tonight."

Hermione sighed.

"Yes, it's going to be—"

"—a very long day tomorrow, mate," Blaise said as he slapped the goblet away from Draco's hand. It was happy hour in the pub they had moved in after they both got terribly annoyed with the noise in the café. "Stop inebriating yourself and let's go home. You're not going to be fit for the case tomorrow."

"Do I want to be fit?" Draco replied, a bit tipsy from the seven other firewhiskeys he drank.

"Like it or not, the event is inevitable," Blaise quipped as he called the barman for the billing. "But would you want Granger to win due to new facts about you being an irresponsible drunkard of a father who drinks his problems away? I think Scorpius agrees with me."

Draco gulped and sighed.

"Will I see you tomorrow?"

"Of course," Blaise laughed. "I'd want to see the battle of the brains. And whether or not you get shot down by a woman."

Draco and Blaise got off the high stools and exited the pub.

"Have I ever told you that you were a sadist?"

"I try my best." Blaise replied before he Disapparated.


	5. The Trial

**Disclaimer: I do not own HP. :-)  
><strong>

Draco Malfoy never thought that he would ever revisit the hallowed halls of the Ministry of Magic courtroom. The cerulean marble walls that held bright, orange fuel lamps that had fire flickering fiercely, gave the room a gassy and fiery smell. He remembered the long row of brown pew seats that once housed a lot of audience, crying and sobbing women in the background with the men looking ready to kill Lucius Malfoy. He noted the two tables that spaced each other out to give a huge gap of walkway for the entrance of the plaintiff and the defendant, though the defendant's table was never filled due to the unanimous decision for Lucius Malfoy's life sentence in Azkaban. The defendant's table had seated only Draco and the plaintiff's table had been filled with Arthur Weasley and Percy Weasley, but only as scribes for the case. Actually, when you think about it, the case should not have existed at all, seeing that Lucius would have to be sentenced to life imprisonment but due to Scrimgeour's meticulous and eccentric personality, the Magical Enforcement Department had to work double time on the "case" for formality purposes and of course for the benefit of the Ministry itself. Scrimgeour knew that due to Pius Thicknesse replacing him as Minister, the people lost faith in the government. But Lucius Malfoy's case brought them back in good terms with the people and if that were the benefit, would Scrimgeour have picked otherwise?

Draco, however, was haunted by the past. Sure, he chose Harry's side eventually due to his owing the Boy Wonder for clutching onto his hand when he was about to fall to his death during the Wizarding War. And the fact that Draco really wanted to change. He sighed heavily at the memories presently flooding into his mind and he swore under his breath, wishing that they would have the case somewhere else. But knowing that Scrimgeour never really favored the Malfoy family, Draco knew that this case would only end in Granger's favor.

Oh, what was the use?

Dressed in a white long-sleeved shirt, a red tie, and covered by a black trenchcoat, trousers, and shined black shoes, Draco settled in the plaintiff's seat even if he was supposed in the defendant's area.

And Hermione agreed.

"Well, good morning, Malfoy," Hermione greeted coldly, coffee cup in hand and a small bag hanging on her shoulder. "I see that you are sitting in the plaintiff's area."

"Who cares about labels, Granger?" Draco snapped. "If you remove those names off the desks, they're going to be called _brown wooden tables_. Get over yourself."

"But this is a formal trial," Hermione replied tartly, slightly slamming her white cup full of steaming, scalding drink onto the table's surface and propped her bag onto the vacant seat next to Draco. "And I believe that due to our going through this custody case—"

"Save your breath for the case, all right?" Draco sighed, standing up and walking over to the defendant's spot, settling himself on the table. "Happy?"

Hermione wondered why Draco looked so bothered when he sat himself on the wooden chair in the defendant's area and instantly regretted that she chased him off. She produced three thick books and one filer out of her bag and Draco's eyes bugged out due to disbelief but said nothing and instead contemplated on the flickering fire.

"To answer your question," Hermione said, shuffling her papers and smoothing down nonexistent wrinkles on both her crisp maroon striped long-sleeved blouse and her cream-colored short skirt. "I used an Extending Charm for my bag. I used this Spell during the Second Wizarding War when Harry, Ron, and I were looking for Horcruxes—"

"Answer this," Draco turned around, his glare icy and arms crossed over his chest. "Was I asking?"

"Your eyes were implying a pique in curiousity."

"Oh, really?" Draco raised his eyebrows sarcastically. "Didn't know you could read minds and eyes."

Hermione kept quiet and shook her head, regretting she ever tried to answer his question and crossed her legs, showing off her black heels. The two didn't speak until they both heard footsteps and a squeaking door.

"Now, Gregory," a deep voice reverberated in the room. "Please note that my next trial will be next week involving Harriet Grossman and her silly muggle family. What is with these muggle cases piling over my head?"

"It must be due to the new Magi-Usurper, Mr. Scrimgeour." Hermione piped up.

The Minister, dressed in his usual drab black robes, turned from his secretary to the plaintiff's table.

"Ah, Miss Granger," Scrimgeour clapped. "You are here, early as always."

"Not really," Hermione replied, smiling. "I was three minutes late. I had to get coffee for the trial."

"Very time-conscious," Scrimgeour commented. "A trait I commend you for always."

Hermione grinned inwardly, glad that the barrier she and her best friends had with the Minister back in Seventh Year was over. She remembered the very forward nature of Scrimgeour when he questioned if the trio's ownership was veritable during their discussion of Albus Dumbledore's will. The bequeathing of the late Headmaster's possessions proved a difficult obstacle in the relationship between her and her friends and the Minister. But upon her entry into the Ministry workforce with Ron and Harry, Scrimgeour decided to let bygones be bygones and treated them well in the office.

"Mr. Malfoy." Scrimgeour nodded curtly towards Draco, obviously still miffed with the huge effect the Malfoy family had inculcated into the Wizarding World.

"Scrimgeour." Draco replied coldly but squirmed uneasily in his seat.

Hermione glanced at her ex-husband again and tried to focus on the case papers. She always did a final review of the case at hand before the case started. But the mere fact that she felt Draco was uncomfortable bothered her a lot. Even if he was the enemy and a little sadistic part of her wanted to see him suffer, her other 90% self didn't want to see that happen.

"Pssst…" Hermione called Draco. "Malfoy?"

"What do you want, Granger?" Draco hissed.

"Do you, erm… want to sit here instead?" Hermione stammered. "I have an empty seat beside me."

Draco laughed mirthlessly.

"Sit with you?" Draco snickered. "A mudblood? I think _I _should have offered you a seat here. Wouldn't it be an honor?"

Hermione frowned at his rudeness and secretly hexed him, making him yelp in pain.

"What was that for?"

"Showing you the capability of a mudblood."

"I'll show you the capacity of a _pureblood_ later."

"You wish."

"Shut up."

They turned to face the Minister who was already dressed in judge's garb and he gave his introduction.

"Hello, Miss Granger, Mister Malfoy, audience," he greeted. "Good morning. I'm Rufus Scrimgeour, current Minister of Magic and present administrator of Case 83010, concerning the Malfoy Marriage Contract clients as mentioned in the greeting. Miss Granger, the plaintiff, presented me a request for joint custody and Mister Malfoy, the defendant, would want to say otherwise. Isn't that right, Mister Malfoy?"

"Obviously."

"All right then," Scrimgeour clapped. "Let's hear your sides."

Hermione stood up, holding her papers when Scrimgeour stopped her.

"Oh yes, I forgot," Scrimgeour announced. "Harry Potter, boy wonder, will act as Scribe today. Let us applaud him for offering his services despite his busy schedule."

The three-people crowd (Scorpius, Ron, and Ginny) clapped with a hint of question along with Hermione, with Draco not even giving the effort to clap.

"Hey, 'Mione," Harry whisper-greeted as he walked in the courtroom, carrying a book. "Good luck today! And Scrimgeour just forced me in here. I needed a raise."

"Thanks!" Hermione replied chirpily.

He then turned to Draco and said, "Malfoy."

"Oh, poor me," Draco sneered. "I don't get a 'Hey.'"

Harry ignored him and settled in the scribe's desk near the witness box.

"Let us proceed!" Scrimgeour declared.

The trial lasted for two hours, the battle of tongues intense and the eloquence of words imminent. Draco and Hermione debated for their respective positions quite excellently, leaving a very confused Scorpius and Ron with an attentive Ginny explaining details in simple English.

"And I'd like to question Mister Malfoy's father skills," Hermione requested. "If he is suitable for guiding a child alone…"

"Oh, boohoo," Draco waved her comment off. "I took care of Scorpius myself and we only came in to your house because you meddled with his education!"

"Only because _I _really am in charge of his study aspects…"

"Why don't you ever mind your own business?"

"Because I do care about him, Malfoy. And isn't concern for the child's education an important consideration in successful parenting?"

"Listen to you talk," Draco replied lazily. "You talk as if you're my wife."

"I was your wife, for Merlin's sake!"

"But you will never be his mother!" Draco snapped. "You're just his _stepmother_. And pray tell, what _right_ do you have concerning my child's education?"

The courtroom suddenly fell silent, Hermione's hands suddenly shaking. And Draco noticed that her eyes had turned glassy.

Ron stood up, glaring contemptuously at Draco and suddenly screamed, "FOUL! YOU BASTARD, DRACO MALFOY!"

Draco just looked on at him with an idle stare but suddenly fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat when he heard murmurs of _how could he say that_? or _Death eater then, death eater forever_. The crowd may have been too little to produce such a loud raucous in the courtroom but sometimes the silent way can be very deafening.

Hermione smiled weakly at the onlookers and turned to a stunned Rufus Scrimgeour and she said, "Yes. I really am just Scorpius' stepmother."

Draco looked down and avoided everyone's eyes whilst he could feel everyone's piercing stare at him.

"But please, Mr. Scrimgeour," Hermione pleaded, her voice cracking. "I actually only need ten weeks of joint custody."

"Ten weeks?" Draco questioned. "How is _that_ responsible parenthood?"

Hermione ignored his stinging comment and eyed the Minister with a very serious look.

"And why would you only need ten weeks, Miss Granger?" Scrimgeour asked, his clasped hands settling over his folder. "I have to agree with Mr. Malfoy. If you want joint custody, it must be for the purpose of actually acknowledging and taking action of some acts single parents cannot do."

Hermione breathed in deeply and Draco watched her every move.

"You see, Mr. Scrimgeour, everyone," she turned around to acknowledge the audience again and turned back to face the stern and curious Minister. "I need to spend time with Scorpius before I take off."

"Take off?" Scrimgeour asked, befuddled. "As in for vacation?"

"No," Hermione shook her head slowly. "I'm moving to France."

"WHAT?" Ron, who was settled in and calmed down by Ginny, shot up from his seat again, shocked by her sudden revelation.

"WHAT?" Harry chimed in.

"WHAT?"

And Hermione turned to see that Draco Malfoy was wearing the exact same befuddled and shocked look everyone was wearing. A look she had never seen traced on his sharp features.

"I would like to hear of your decision very soon," Hermione replied calmly. "Thank you."

And with that, she walked out the brown double doors, Draco's eyes following her every move.


	6. Draco's Apology

**Disclaimer: I do not own HP. :-)**

"Scorpius?" Draco knocked softly on the door of his son's room the next morning. Ever since the trial, Scorpius just shook his head and crossed his arms, refusing to speak to his father. The two were obviously quiet throughout the night, with Draco glancing desperately at his son who was reading a ten-chapter book entitled "The Adventure of Manny the Manticore", a gift given by none other than Hermione for his fifth birthday.

There was no answer that emitted from the other side so Draco knocked again.

"Scorpius?" Draco tried, putting his ear on the door and listening for his son's reply.

The only sound he heard was the rapid flipping of pages and he inferred that his son must have reached the so-called "climax" or "thriller part" of the book.

All the more for Scorpius to avoid any form or kind of interference during his reading time.

Draco slumped down on the floor, his back leaning on the brown, wooden door and waited.

It had been a good three hours until Draco's bum started to hurt and he tried again, his voice still patient.

"Scorpius?"

There was still no answer.

"Come on, now," Draco persisted, his voice pleading. "You are eventually going to speak to me, right?"

There was still no response.

"I know you are secretly dying to ask me what the meaning of _juxtapose_ is."

"No, I don't," Scorpius snapped from inside his room. "How do you know the word _juxtapose_ is in 'Manny the Manticore?'"

"I was bored enough to look through your book given the lack of any other novels in this flat."

"And I hate you, Daddy."

Draco sighed, pained by his son's words but still continued to play with his son's words.

"So, you do know what _juxtapose_ means?" Draco asked shrewdly.

There was a long pause.

"No," Scorpius replied coolly. "But I can always ask Mum."

"Oh, right."

"Why are you still outside, Daddy?" Scorpius asked. "Are you still expecting me to speak to you?"

"Given the situation right now, you are speaking to me."

"Go away, Dad."

"Make me."

"Fine," Scorpius replied. "Leave it to Farou to call you for your nonexistent lunch."

Farou was their in-house elf, a creature that would have rendered her ex-wife to tears for she so loved the sort that she had created an organization called S.P.E.W or Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare back in their fourth year at Hogwarts.

Draco sighed heavily, knowing that this fight was going nowhere. He knew the only way to solve this little contretemps but his stubborn self had decided against it immediately.

But as much as he wanted to keep his pride and leave his insults out like that, he didn't want to argue with his son because he meant the world to Draco. And disappointing him would upset Draco even more.

"All right, I concede." Draco threw his hands up in defeat.

"Whatever do you mean, Daddy?" Scorpius asked innocently.

"Do you really want me to say it?" his father groaned.

"Say what?" Scorpius replied.

"I will apologize to Mum."

He heard rapid footsteps coming towards the door and Draco inched four steps back for fear he might topple over.

Scorpius ran to his dad and hugged him tightly.

"I knew you weren't all that evil!" Scorpius exclaimed and Draco returned his embrace.

"So you thought I was evil?" Draco looked at his son with a raised left eyebrow.

"I said _not all that_." Scorpius corrected cheekily and Draco poked his son's nose gently.

"You really are a Malfoy, Scorpius." Draco hugged him even tighter.

"Let's get going, Dad," Scorpius let go and ran into his room to get his scarf and coat. "I really want to catch Mum before she goes to work."

"What's the rush?" Draco replied quietly, realizing he was nervous about apologizing to Hermione.

"I want to ask her what _juxtapose_ means. I'm almost done with her book."

Garrison Street looked a little more colorful than usual, but it was most probably due to the season changes. After all, it was the first week of fall but knowing Hermione, she would indeed burst into a palette of colors due to her rage and Draco wasn't ready to face her yet. The two Malfoys Apparated in front of Hermione's porch and Draco fidgeted again.

Scorpius rang the doorbell and whispered, "Dad, just say, 'I'm sorry.'"

"But what if she won't accept it?"

"She will." Scorpius replied, crossing his fingers for good luck as he stood behind his father.

Draco heard shuffling feet at the other side of the door and waited with keyed-up breath as his fists clenched but felt a tad reassured when he sensed the small hand of his son on his back.

The door creaked.

_This is it._

Draco had expected a full-blown, ox-like, anger-filled face from Hermione but had seen otherwise as he looked at her. Instead, he saw puffy eyes, blotchy cheeks, and labored inhales reverberating from her unsteady chest.

He stood there, stunned, ignoring the numerous nudges Scorpius gave him. Draco thought that she would get over the insults soon enough. For Merlin's sake, it has been a day after he spewed (sorry, Hermione) all those words out! She should move on.

"Do you think I have all day, Malfoy?" Hermione snapped, her voice cracking. "Why are you here? Armed with more insults?"

Draco just shook his head and Scorpius gave him one last reassuring tap.

"Granger, I… I just wanted to say…"

"What?" Hermione interrupted fiercely, another tear falling down her cheek. "That I am the sorriest excuse of a stepmother? That I'm not worth Scorpius' time?"

"No!" Draco replied indignantly, his fists balled.

_Apologizing really is hard,_ Draco thought as he watched Hermione's chocolate brown eyes fill with rage. _That's why I never do it._

"Then what are you doing here? You want to ruin my day some more?" Hermione started sobbing. "I just received the letter from Rufus Scrimgeour and he didn't allow me ten weeks of joint custody because he thinks it's too short of a commitment. And then I receive this call from my residential broker in France that the prices have gone up and it's too far beyond my price range, which means I might end up living in a slumhouse due to the rising prices."

Draco just stood there, listening to Hermione bawl and he suddenly felt sorry for her. He felt a sudden pang of regret for the words he had said and he wished he could take everything back.

"And then you," Hermione pointed angrily at Draco. "You show up after being the biggest arse in the universe, here on my doorstep, wiping reminders of your insults through the mere presence of your face just to ruin my day. If you came here to apologize, save your breath because I don't want to accept it. Your insults were too much yesterday and I cannot somehow stomach you trying to take them back because you can't, all right?"

"I wasn't going to insult you—"

"Get out of my house, Malfoy," Hermione growled, her voice firm and unsteady at the same time. Her eyes were glassy, busy producing more tears and Hermione had to turn away, embarrassed to show her ex-husband the huge effect his words had on her. "Get out and leave Scorpius here."

"Are you trying to defy the rules, Granger?" Draco sneered. "You weren't _granted_ joint custody."

Hermione swallowed again and Draco clamped his hand over his mouth, realizing he insulted her for what seemed like the nth time.

"Fine."

"No, I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

"Don't ever speak to me again."

"Granger, I—"

_SLAM._

Draco turned to Scorpius and said, "I'm sorry."

Scorpius smiled cheerily despite the fight he witnessed.

"It may take Mum a while," Scorpius replied, hugging his dad's leg. "But an apology from you will always be accepted by me."

"You are the sweetest, son."

"I try."

Draco laughed weakly but he felt heaviness in his heart. This feeling was pretty new to him but he knew that this pain would not heal fast. He knew that he had pained Hermione to the point that she would just burst into tears in front of him. And through the event that transpired today, old memories flooded through his brain.

Feelings of pain, resentment, and _regret_.

He knew that he should never speak to his prat of an ex-wife again but something tugged at his insides to think otherwise. He sighed heavily as he entered his study and settled on his oak table.

He wrote a little note that read:

_I know that you don't want me to speak to you but I realized that maybe this apology will work in more ways than one. At least, I hope so. –DM_

He tucked the note under a snowglobe paperweight and produced a new roll of parchment.

He dipped his feather quill into the ink bottle and began to write:

_Dear Mr. Scrimgeour…_


	7. The Letter

**Disclaimer: I do not own HP. :-)**

**A/N: Probs one of my fave chapters so far! Enjoy. ;) [it's one of the shorties though but nevertheless!]  
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THAT INSUFFERABLE GIT," Ginny Weasley exclaimed as she dug into her salad. "Who knew a guy like Malfoy could sink so low?"

Hermione and Ginny were eating lunch at the Ministry café because now that Hermione was moving, she needed all the money she can get to help her financially. Her broker, Alexandre Lefevre, had recently written to her that the funds she sent him in a sealed envelope was still not sufficient enough to afford the flat she wanted in Nice.

Being the stubborn girl she was, she forced herself to work longer hours just so she could send in more money to Lefevre. She had met him thrice that month and she knew that the ten-week deadline was nearing. She picked on her salad, realizing that she was also ironically wasting time. She knew that joint custody_ was not_ an option anymore since Scrimgeour had rejected her plea.

_How, how did Draco Malfoy manage to get his way again?_

"Don't you mind him, 'Mione," Ginny said, interrupting her pensieve thoughts as she chewed rapidly and angrily. "He will get his just desserts, just you wait!"

"I hate how he still got his way with everything," Hermione blurted, speaking for the first time that day. "Despite his bad reputation, he still manages to influence even the Minister."

"I know this may hurt a lot but I guess, despite everything, the Malfoys still have a huge influence on the Ministry. Maybe because of Lucius' constant donations to save face and to hide what they were really doing at the time."

"I'm really curious though," Ginny tapped her chin thoughtfully, positing her fork on the table and looked at her friend who was finally eating her salad. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Anything, Gin."

"But can I ask you a favor before you know what I'm about to ask?"

"What?"

"Could you keep your knives at bay?"

"I don't see the reason," Hermione replied. "But go on."

"How was married life with Draco Malfoy?"

Hermione sighed and set her fork on the table.

"You just made me lose my appetite."

Ginny slapped her own face in frustration.

"Oh, hell," Ginny shut her eyes, embarrassed due to her own stupidity. "I'm sorry. You haven't eaten the whole day…"

Hermione glanced at her friend and she knew deep inside, the worrying front Ginny put up was not a sincere kind of front. She knew that Ginny still wanted answers because in fairness to her, Hermione had never "kiss and told" anyone about being a six-month Mrs. Malfoy.

_Not that she ever wanted to be one_.

"Where do I start?" Hermione drummed her fingers on the table.

"Anywhere, I guess."

"But what's to tell? My married life was boring."

"Anything will do."

Ginny heard the clock ticking rapidly as Hermione had gone into a full-blown rant about her ex-husband.

"And have you any idea why he takes so long in the loo?" Hermione snapped, drinking her water in huge gulps. "Honestly, he behaves like such a female, I can't even comprehend…"

Ginny's eyes drooped due to her boredom, hearing Draco's name being repeated constantly but she couldn't blame Hermione. Ginny asked the questions.

"Are you finished?" Ginny asked monotonously, swirling her pasta in meticulously shaped circles.

"Ginevra Weasley!" Hermione snapped. "Do you think that my long list of peeves for a certain Draco Malfoy could be treated as a finite concept?"

"No." Ginny sighed.

"Good for you to realize that so quickly," Hermione replied. "Now, where was I? Oh yes, the bookcases! Did I mention that he made me take down all of the Transfiguration books so that he could have space for his Quidditch books?"

"Only about three times in the past two hours but go on."

"And so anyway, Scorpius just mentions his curiosity about manticores and of course, like the classic Malfoy that he is, shot his own son down and discouraged him to fantasize about mythical creatures because they don't exist! If you were me, would you just sit there and listen to Malfoy rattle on about practicality and reality, therefore discouraging his own child to dream and imagine, a right supposedly given to someone so young an age to still believe in ideals and morals?" Hermione gasped for breath, her soliloquy clearly too long. "What do you think, Ginny?"

But Ginny had already fallen asleep, her head settled on the right side of her pasta plate.

"Ginevra!"

Ginny's head shot up and her eyes met with a very miffed Hermione and she smiled sheepishly.

"You said something about manticores, imagination, and Malfoy?"

"Exactly. What is your viewpoint?"

"I don't know, Hermione," Ginny groaned. "You've been talking for the past two and a half hours. Don't you think it's time to go?"

"Go where?"

"Work?"

Hermione gasped, her blood rushing.

"Work!" she repeated, forking all of her food in one swallow. "Work! Work! Why didn't you remind me?"

"I have been!"

"Since when?"

"For the past hour!"

"But you said I've been ranting for two and a half!"

"Well, the first hour and a half was quite interesting to listen to."

Hermione's stone-cold face allowed a small smile and standing up, she got her bag and Ginny went ahead to foot the bill. She retrieved _The Daily Prophet _from the seat beside her when out of nowhere, a coffee-colored envelope smacked her in the face, making her stumble a bit.

"What on earth was that?" Hermione exclaimed, making people turn heads. "Was it you, Hestia?"

Hestia McCrory, her colleague in the Enforcement department, shook her head quickly.

"Was it you, Gary?"

Gary Locker, the Mysteries officer, said no.

She then turned to the class clown of the Ministry.

"Admit it, Damon," Hermione said, crossing her arms on her chest as she looked at the foolish visage of the prankster.

"Have you gone off your rocker, Herms?" Damon Whitley, class prankster and second-officer in the Mysteries Department, laughed. "Why would I send you a letter? Do you think I'm in love with you?"

"What?" Hermione exclaimed, blushing furiously. "No!"

"Then why would I send you a letter?"

"Hermy and Damon sitting on a willow!" Jorge Hatcher, one of Damon's close friends, declared.

"K-I-S-S—"

"Oh, grow up." Hermione rolled her eyes and turned her back on the snickering lot whose mild teasing grew into some terrible jokes.

She gingerly picked the envelope up and walked swiftly to avoid any more comments from the rest of the customers in the café.

She slid her finger inside the flap of the envelope and with her wand checked for any hexes or curses. When the test proved that the sealed thing was clean, she opened it and gasped, tears springing in her eyes.

_Miss Granger:_

_ I received a very interesting letter concerning the issue of joint custody. You may remember my rejection reply to your plea and for that I am still very sorry. However, this letter had changed my mindset all over again. In this letter, this person had written that I grant you full custody of Scorpius Malfoy. The sender wished his identity to be kept confidential. But whoever he is must have owed you a big favor._

_ And by the power vested in me, along with Ministry Law #66378, which indicates that any form of written appeal for the plaintiff should be granted with regard to mutual wishes, you are hereby granted __**joint custody**__ of Scorpius Malfoy for __**seventy (70) **__days._

_ Have a great afternoon._

_ Sincerely,_

_ Rufus Scrimgeour_

Hermione looked around to see who sent the letter, disbelieving any thoughts of Scrimgeour ever smacking her with a letter like that. She saw through the window a blond head disappearing into thin air and thought that maybe it was who she thought he was but decided against it. She ran to Ginny to tell her the news and eventually, she, along with Harry and Ron celebrated her custody victory with six glasses of Butterbeer like old times.

Meanwhile, in the Malfoy household, Scorpius received a book from his father entitled "Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them."


	8. The Malfoy Manor

**Disclaimer: I do not own HP. :-)**

**A/N: Sorry for the late posting! I was very busy. :-( And I experienced some writer's block. :| Chapter 9 will be up tonight or by tomorrow night. :-) Depends if I get ideas quick. Enjoy! :D  
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Draco leaned on one of the marble columns of the foyer in the Manor and felt the cool seep in slowly into the skin of his temple. He gazed at the doorframe across from where he was standing and focused on the still elegant but quite old oak dining table where his former Death Eater colleagues once sat, watching intently and sadistically as poor Muggle Studies professor Charity Burbage was eaten alive by Nagini, one of Voldemort's Horcruxes. He sighed heavily as he remembered the exact place where he was seated, horrified by the sight of Burbage and scared of the actual power of the Dark Lord. He had glanced at his mother that time and the once stoic and cool stare that Narcissa always put on was replaced by glassy eyes and a shaky look at her husband, Lucius, who shared the same gaze when directly put in the spotlight by Voldemort.

Draco cringed at the memory of the night his father was humiliated and _jeered_ on by the Dark Lord and the other Death Eaters and he watched his father's wand snap right in front of his eyes, the sadistic and evil tone seething in the way Voldemort had spoken.

Almost like a whisper.

A voice that pounds in your mind constantly.

Haunting.

A recollection quite hard to erase.

_"Draco," Lord Voldemort had whispered into his ear whilst he was pacing the room, doing his regular loyalty check-up and so far, the other followers had still sworn in confirmed to his side. "You are of age now, yes?"_

_ Draco shivered at the chilling sound of his voice and out of fear he nodded quickly. "Yes, my Lord," Draco replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "I am of age."_

_ Voldemort clapped his hands mirthlessly._

_ "Ah, so you are," the Dark Lord said, his bloodshot eyes boring right into Draco's tempestuous greys. "And as a coming-of-age gift from your Lord, I welcome you officially to my clan. Everyone, welcome Draco Malfoy to our little group."_

_ The rest of the Death Eaters glanced at each other nervously and then looked at their leader._

_ "I SAID APPLAUD!" Voldemort snapped, his voice thunderous._

_ Everyone quickly applauded until Voldemort held his hands up for them to stop._

_ "And now that our little Draco has finally matured," Voldemort continued, his steps like gunshots in Draco's ears. "Let us assign him his first task."_

_ Narcissa gripped his son's sweaty hand right away, afraid of what he was going to announce. Draco looked close to tears and worry reflected visibly on his face and due to this, he kept his head down, afraid that Voldemort will sense the fear._

_ And due to Voldemort's brilliance, he sensed it right away. _

_ "Afraid, Draco?"_

_ Draco shook his head vigorously and inhaled sharply._

_ "Afraid an ickle task will affect your skin tone?"_

_ The Death Eaters cackled, except for Lucius and Narcissa whose faces were bent down as well due to humiliation._

_ "Well, Draco," Voldemort hissed. "I will make sure this first ickle task of yours will keep your hands and skin tone unaffected."_

Draco shut his eyes as the pounding voice resonated in the deepest corners of his conscious, wishing the memory would stop rewinding.

This was the reason why he ran away from home. Well, not literally sneak out of the house because in the end, who would he be sneaking from? His father was in Azkaban, suffering the torments of imprisoned life as payment for his deeds. His mother was killed off before he could start over for the better. His supposed wife-to-be Astoria fled due to her cowardice. She had fled due to her not wanting to own Scorpius as her son.

He shook his head, eluding the pain the memories always brought him, and walked over to the living room, still clouded with darkness. The Malfoys never bothered to buy new furnishings for their home despite the fact that they wanted to move on. Draco never bothered touching any of the vases, the paintings, the curtains, the windows, the black doors that gave off unwelcoming spirits to those who ever dared enter the hallowed halls of the Malfoy abode. He sat down, glancing at the coffee table that had a little crack at the edge of its side. He sighed, wondering how absolutely imbecilic his life had turned out: he chose a side he never wanted, he watched his mother die and didn't do anything about it, he had wanted to marry Astoria Greengrass and in the end, married a kind his principles defied against.

Oh yes, _Hermione Granger_.

He remembered the day she set foot into the kingdom of pureblood madness and he saw her _shiver_. She saw how fearful the home was, how evil the house was once, and how haunting every part of the abode was in her eyes. He held a tattered copy of _Hadrian's Hollows_ and remembered that that was the first book she ever read out of the Malfoy bookshelf. He traced his slender fingers onto the worn, faded cover of the tome and instantaneously remembered the conversation they had:

_"Why don't you ever keep your books in incredible condition?"_

_ Hermione flicked her wand twice and all the books shot out of their places all at once when Draco grabbed her arm fiercely._

_ "Is this your house?"_

_ Hermione glared at Draco._

_ "It is mine now!"_

_ "Just because we're chained by the hip together due to some stupid marriage contract does not mean that you own every single one of my property!"_

_ "Oh yes, I do. After all, aren't we both in union?"_

_ Draco thought for a moment and then glanced at the growing triumphant smirk of his newly wedded wife._

_ "But I still won't let you change anything."_

Draco always wondered why he kept the house when in fact, this place that he was born and raised was the epitome of his dark past: a past he didn't want to be part of anymore, a past he wanted to run away from.

He hated the dark corridors that led toward his room. He hated his father's study where he always welcomed Scabior and the Death Eater lot. He hated the dining area. He hated the living room where he fought Harry Potter and watched as Bellatrix threw a spear as Dobby Apparated to save his friends and in the end got himself killed. He hated the plate cupboard and the area where it was situated because that was where he and Astoria fought. He hated every square inch of the house in fact because every piece of furniture, every wall, every plate, every fork, every spoon, and every doorknob was touched by Hermione Granger.

Or at least he _hated_ her.

Not that he was ever going to admit that.

He checked his watch and saw that it was five in the morning, already three hours in ever since he snuck out of his new flat and double-checked if Scorpius was still in deep slumber.

He couldn't sleep at all and it had been a week since the trial and the week he saw Hermione Granger break down in front of him. He knew he wasn't the type of person who felt pity for anyone, let alone his own Slytherin comrades. The only time he felt sorry for anyone was when his father was humiliated and it stung because the Malfoys always had some sort of pride that they upheld in the smug looks and the expensive garb that they put on every single day.

But he knew the real reason for his insomnia was not due to his loss of power because he was still powerful. He didn't have that much influence anymore ever since the Malfoys diminished in status but he was slowly rebuilding his contacts and he was still rich. He may have still remembered bits and pieces of his mother's death and how he and Lucius were just standing there, absolutely appalled and helpless, holding in their tears for the sake of their name and their _hubris_.

He couldn't sleep because of Hermione Granger.

He felt that constant stomachache whenever he remembered the tear-stained face of his ex-wife, babbling and rattling on about financial issues and how she couldn't get joint custody, therefore blaming him for her lack in influence. He tried to think of other things like work but they would only lead his mind back to her image. The image of her crying and the way her voice sounded so vulnerable made him feel guilty about saying those terrible things to her. He tried to make up for it by writing to Rufus Scrimgeour a letter to appeal again for joint custody this time as a mutual decision but he had heard no response from her, making him think that an apology was not enough for his name-calling.

He never knew how a word like _mudblood_ could sting Hermione so much. And yet it did, even worse than before. He then realized that as one grows older, the names you throw at one person as forms of insult hit harder because the meaning of it unfolds differently.

And who could forget that they both came out fresh from the war? They came out from a war between dark and light, a war between those who wanted Pureblood to rule and for the ones who fought for equality?

Despite all those events that transpired, he still called her a Mudblood. How could he be so _stupid_?

He tried to face her, to say sorry too, but instead, she slammed the door in his face and that made him feel guilty even more. He hated these new feelings. He wanted the old him back: the one who couldn't care less about labels because he was the one giving them out, the one who was commander-in-chief of Slytherin, bossing his friends around like they were his minions and stupidly enough, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle were his slaves for the entire duration of his scholarly life.

He tried to run away by moving into a new flat, taking his only son with him as a form of change, trying to start anew. But he remembered the day he swore into Harry Potter's side, his voice begging for good, his voice begging for _what he really wanted_. He remembered Harry Potter's words: _You may have sworn into our side but you will never, ever forget where you came from._

So, why does he come back to the Malfoy Manor when in fact, he could have sold the place to another person? Who cares about all these useless artifacts anyway? Didn't he want to start again?

But Harry Potter was indeed truthful and precise when he said that Draco will never be someone who can claim he was raised to be good and kind to others. He can still move forward but he can never go back in time to change who he was back then, even if he used a hundred of Hermione Granger's time-turners.

He walked over to the portrait family tree of the Malfoys, focusing his glance on the frame, which had the name _Narcissa Black-Malfoy_ under the painting. He sighed heavily as his mother looked on, smug and cold as ever but gave a weak smile at his son.

"Is this what you wanted?" Draco muttered, his voice cracking slightly. "Is this why you died?"

Narcissa only looked at her son with endearing and tender eyes, a look Draco had never seen his mother put on.

"I should have protected you," Draco added, his tone fierce. "You didn't deserve your death."

Narcissa shook her head and stared on, her cold glare lingering somewhere else.

"Are you happy with how I turned out?" Draco asked, knowing an answer he was begging from his mother was an effort done in vain.

Narcissa didn't answer and instead gave him a glance. It was emotionless so Draco couldn't tell if he made the right or wrong decision. But he could feel that Narcissa would have wanted this new Draco. He knew from the very start that she never wanted him to live a life like before: a life full of cowering, shaking, and bowing to someone they both did not want to believe in.

And in some way, Narcissa had gotten her wish. Her son had finally stood up for what he believed in and swore into the right side, therefore giving his life a 90-degree turn. It wasn't a 180-degree turn because bits of evil were still inside but that didn't mean he would use them ever again.

Draco shook his head and turned around when he heard a woman's voice whisper ever so softly: _Sleep_.

He felt a warm kind of feeling rush through the veins in his body and he Disapparated with a slight smile, knowing that despite everything, he never wanted to give this house up.

Furniture and Lord Voldemort may be things that he could declare no use of anymore but memories will always be around as reminders. These memories will remind him of what he was before and that he should never go back.

As he Disapparated, little did he realize that a change was going to come. And that change, if he doesn't take charge of it, will disappear in ten weeks.


	9. Reminisce

**Disclaimer: I do not own HP. :-)**

Twenty-four year old Hermione Granger never believed that she would live to see the world change, or rather believe that she had been so _involved_ in making this change happen. She never knew she would see the day when Voldemort finally fell after attempting to kill her chosen one of a best friend. She never knew she would ever _drop out of school_ to search for Horcruxes with her best comrades Ron and Harry when this search was non-academic in nature and knowing her, she _lived_ and _breathed_ academics. She never knew that she would ever be sneaking around with them when she herself was downright righteous, telling them off constantly in their first year to stop sneaking around.

_"I'm going to bed before either of you come up with another idea to get us killed, or worse; expelled." _

She laughed, remembering how young and naïve she was, always believing that the world would always still be filled with an idealistic sort and seven years later, her viewpoint changed.

She shuffled papers three times before she placed them neatly on top of the stack with the label "FINISHED" and sighed happily, knowing she was almost finished with her daily dose of hard work. She decided to scour her three drawers, looking for things she might have forgotten were in there. She sifted through letters, yellowed award papers, and a photograph of her in the Yule Ball with both of her arms on Harry's and Ron's shoulders. She smiled inwardly, remembering how dolled up she was, a look she never knew she would pull off so well. She remembered the night when she caught the attention of the entire male population while she sauntered down the stairs and she caught the jealous eyes of the _female_ population.

She then found a rose behind the photo and she remembered that Ron had given it to her during the Ball.

_"Ah, Hermi-ninny," Viktor Krum grunted as he took hold of her hand and she giggled. "You look beateevul tonight."_

_ "Oh, Vicky," Hermione smiled as she sipped her Butterbeer. Viktor Krum grinned smugly. "How charming of you."_

_ "Thanks, Hermy," Viktor replied. "I may be 'charming' but I haf practiced much more magic than regyoolar people."_

_ "Actually, Vicky, 'charming' means—" Hermione began but was cut off by a stomping, infuriated Ron. _

_ "Viktor." Ron fumed, his left fist clenched and his right arm behind his back._

_ "Ah, Veesly," Viktor clapped, standing up. "Came here vor anofer autograph?"_

_ "On the contrary, Krum," Ron growled, getting impatient. "I would like to speak to Hermione."_

_ "Ron…" Hermione interrupted._

_ "I cannot do that, Veesly," Viktor replied simply, sitting back down and looking at a red-faced Ron. "She iz my date tonight." _

_ "I am aware of that," Ron gritted. "But that does not mean you own her, Krum. She's my best friend."_

_ "Ronald, please don't start—" Hermione growled, slamming her Butterbeer bottle on the table and then stood up. _

_ "Ah," Viktor put his hands up. "I deed not see it that vay. Okay, Veesly. You can take 'er vor a minut."_

_ "Gladly." Ron replied curtly, his eyes signaling Hermione to move._

_ Hermione rolled her eyes and stomp-followed him out of the Great Hall, her lavender dress fluttering._

_ "Ronald Bilius Weasley!" Hermione huffed, stomping her heels. "Are you bonkers? What is so important that you had to drag me out of the Ball?"_

_ "Do you like Viktor?"_

_ "What?" Hermione sputtered._

_ "Do you like Viktor?" Ron repeated._

_ "I—No… It's none of your business!" Hermione reddened._

_ "Oh," Ron looked down, sheepish. "I'm sorry…"_

_ "You better be," Hermione spat. "Now, what is it that you wanted to say to me?"_

_ "I…" Ron murmured, still looking down and his right hand still behind his back. "Erm…"_

_ Hermione was tapping her right foot impatiently, her arms crossed tightly over her chest._

_ "What?" Hermione snapped._

_ "I…" Ron murmured again, stomping his foot in frustration due to his loss of words. _

_ "Am I going to stand here the whole night listening to you repeat the pronoun I? Because __**I **__need to be going somewhere."_

_ "Wait, 'Mione…"_

_ Hermione turned on her heel and was about to go when…_

_ "WAIT!" Ron repeated loudly. _

_ "Pardon?" Hermione turned around and glared at Ron. _

_ "I meant, wait…" Ron sighed, knowing he screwed this conversation up. "I have something…"_

_ "Well, we can't keep Viktor waiting!" Hermione exclaimed. _

_ "I…" Ron said again. "Here."_

_ Hermione was stunned to see a long-stemmed red rose in his right hand and she was left speechless._

_ "Is this it?"_

_ "Well…"_

_ "Well, what? I haven't got all night!"_

_ "What I wanted to say was…"_

_ "What?"_

_ "I l…"_

_ "Hurry up!"_

_ "I like…"_

_ "Go on."_

_ "I'd like you to get an autograph from Viktor Krum!"_

_ "You what?"_

_ "I'd like an autograph from Viktor Krum."_

_ "Why didn't you just ask him when you were there?"_

_ "Well, I didn't want to look crazy in front of him! I was fuming!" Ron replied, reddening even more._

_ "Oh, all right," Hermione rolled her eyes. "Is that it?"_

_ Ron knew that it was opposite of what he meant but said otherwise._

_ "Yes."_

She remembered she handed a napkin with Viktor's signature on it to Ron that same night with a little note added on the bottom that said:

_I like you too._

Ron grimaced, thinking that it was from Viktor but sighed in relief when it was actually from Hermione. They were together until seventh year and it felt like a match made in heaven until she realized that they weren't perfect for each other at all. Ron couldn't really keep up with her intelligence and her prowess in a lot of aspects and she felt that a woman on top must be very shameful for Ron. And in a way, Ron wanted to focus more on rebuilding his life when the Burrow was burned to bits during the War and to share grieving moments with the family after Fred had died. They talked all their issues over and they split amicably, but still remained the best of friends.

"Are you really going to miss me that much?" a voice interrupted her thoughts.

Hermione jumped and looked to find that Ron was smirking widely.

"Because we could have gotten together again, you know…"

Hermione whacked his head with a rolled-up contract folder.

"Ow!" Ron winced, rubbing his head gingerly. "What was that for?"

"For being an outright, smug arse."

"Well, you didn't have to hit me so hard!"

"You deserved it!"

"You could've hit me some other way!"

"Now you're putting malicious meaning into what you're saying!" Hermione whacked him on the head again.

"Ow! Stop it!" Ron rubbed his head again. "If you're calling me an arse, why aren't you hitting me in the bum?"

"Stop talking like that!"

"I'm meaning it the way it is!"

"Okay, you two," a calm voice interrupted their little squabble. "Calm down."

"Harry!" they squealed and the trio hugged.

"It's funny how we hug like we haven't seen each other in months or years." Harry laughed.

"Well, I am going to miss you." Hermione admitted sadly, remembering she will be departing in eleven weeks time.

"When does your custody thing start?"

"Next week," Hermione replied. "I didn't want to trudge in on Malfoy's house considering how I dealt with him the previous week."

"What did you do?"

Hermione then related the story to her two peers and they frowned.

"Well, he deserved it!" Ron replied.

"On the contrary." Harry chimed.

"What?" Ron sputtered. "Are you trying to defend him? After what he called Hermione?"

"He did send you an approval from Scrimgeour," Harry said. "He did, didn't he?"

Hermione nodded sheepishly.

"I think he sent that letter to you as some sort of apology," Harry continued. "Have you apologized to him?"

"He deserved those words, Harry!" Ron interjected, reeling from the anger he felt when he watched his best friend being silenced to tears by the verbal torment she received from Malfoy during the trial.

"We all say things like those sometimes," Harry glanced at Ron. "Remember when you told me that I couldn't feel what family was like because my parents were dead?"

Ron hung his head in shame.

"Oh, right, yeah," Ron put his hands in his pockets. "Sorry about that, mate."

"And I forgave you, right?" Harry questioned. "We're still best friends."

He then turned to Hermione.

"You must do the same to Malfoy," Harry said. "You're leaving in eleven weeks and you don't want to start anew with grudges still hanging in there."

Hermione clutched the crumpled joint custody letter in her jeans pocket.

"You don't have to like him," Harry continued. "But just be civil with each other. I think Scorpius wants you to do the same."

Hermione was stunned to hear such words coming from Harry's mouth and silently applauded his best friend's words of wisdom. Who knew that a boy whose parents were taken away and whose loved ones he had slowly died in front of his eyes could carry such a huge heart of forgiveness? He grew up and moved on.

She knew she would forgive him eventually but that slight push from Harry gave her even more encouragement to do so as soon as possible.

She inhaled slowly, hoping that Draco would be ready to accept her apology and not receive it in the same way she had received his.


	10. Influx of Reveries

**Disclaimer: I do not own HP. :-)**

**A/N: Sorry for the delay! Writer's block. I have got a spanking idea for the eleventh chapter so get your hopes up for tomorrow! Enjoy!  
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"What's this?" Draco questioned upon settling into his study at the Malfoy Manor. He may have wanted to escape the past but he knew that business settlements always came through in that house. He didn't know why but everytime he had to sign a deal, the clients seem to _always agree with him_. Maybe it was the huge family tree behind the desk chair that had cold, staring, snobbish Malfoy forefathers staring right back at you, watching your every move as you make a decision. Maybe it was the looming, marble statue of Lucius Malfoy that captured his entire personality so vividly: glaring eyes, smug look, and cane in the right hand… Whenever Draco would catch a glance at that sculpture, he would shudder. What more for the others who came in?

Draco looked at the statue and swore to himself, stupidly smacking his forehead in the process. He shuddered again, remembering how admired his father was and he felt a pang of painful nostalgia. His father may be the most hated man in the Wizarding World, both sides alike, but Draco missed having an influential man around. What Lucius lacked in goodness and kindness, he made up in power and wealth. Draco felt insecure being the new head of Malfoy Industries and heading it without the guidance of his intelligent and cunning pater. He sometimes needed the advice of his father and even if the sculpture in the room still scared the bejabbers out of him, he was secretly glad to have his father's presence around. Totally _not _in the flesh, but the marble could do.

"What do you mean 'what's this?'" Blaise Zabini repeated, throwing him a questioning look as he settled in one of the black leather seats facing the brown oak desk of Draco, formerly Lucius'. "That's the contract Henry Jeffries had sent in ages ago!"

"Must you exaggerate?" Draco replied, sighing in relief after frantically checking for the date of the contract's deadline. "It's due in ten weeks."

Draco suddenly felt a hollow pang in his abdomen.

_Ten weeks._

He suddenly felt sick, the deadline was looming.

And he wasn't talking about the contract.

_Oh, what thoughts am I brewing up in my nutshell I call a head? _he sigh-thought, shaking his head and leafed through the twenty pages of the agreement.

"What is this about again?"

"What's your problem?" Blaise sighed, taking the contract from Draco's hand. "This was the plea bargain that Jeffries sent you in about establishing new products for the company."

"And why is he sending me this?" Draco asked. "Can't he decide for himself?"

"Are you losing your mind?" Blaise stared hard at his co-partner-slash-best friend. "You're the _head_. Of course, everything has to be approved and screened by you. Honestly, ever since _Granger_…"

"What's with Granger, Blaise?" Draco snapped, crossing his arms tightly, frowning. "Must we bring her up again?"

"_Again?_" Blaise replied, crossing his arms as well. "I've never brought her up ever! It's been two weeks since all this drama and you're slipping away already? You've barely even started at this job!"

"Must you mind my business, Blaise?" Draco said coldly, uncrossing his arms and reading the papers where the contract situated itself on top before handing it over to his friend. "I have other things more important to worry about. And how do you know about what I'm thinking? Are you some kind of mind reader? Have a pensieve like Dumbledore's?"

"Must you mention Dumbledore?" Blaise leaned his head on top of the oak desk. "The one who almost saved your life?"

Draco sighed heavily, remembering his cowardice in sixth year. Memories flooded through his conscious again, reminding him of the words Dumbledore had uttered before his untimely death:

_You are not a killer._

"Snape saved my life," Draco insisted, his voice now acquiring a low tone. "Now, can we focus on this contract with Jeffries?"

"What do you think Jeffries should do?"

Draco pondered for a minute.

"I think we should go through with it."

"Are you blooming mad?"

"You asked me a question that needed my approval," Draco drawled simply, leaning on his desk chair. "And now I laid my approval. Question answered? I guess."

"But does Jeffries make any sense?" Blaise spat. "You always said—"

"_I _always said?" Draco laughed. "You said that Jeffries _never_ made any sense!"

"Oh, right…"

"Or is it because he shagged Pansy Parkinson senseless?"

"Don't you dare…"

"You reminded me of troublesome times," Draco stood up, pacing the room idly, watching in glee as his best friend squirmed. "Now it's my turn to watch you fidget."

"Sadist."

"Liar."

"Malfoy."

"At your service."

"Daddy!" Scorpius ran into the room, clutching _Fantastic Beasts _in both of his hands. "What's a chi…chimer…chimra?"

"You mean a chimaera?" Blaise corrected, grinning at his godson.

"Uncle Blaise!" Scorpius ran to his godfather, embracing him tightly. "Didn't notice you there. Heehee."

"I was always an invisible man in my life."

"And in Henry Jeffries' life for two months into your marriage…"

"Shut up. We've resolved things."

"With whom? Jeffries or Parkinson?"

"Mind your own business."

"Are you fighting again?" Scorpius asked. "I don't like it when people fight."

"We're not fighting, son," Draco explained calmly, leering over his son whose eyes were looking up into his father's. "We're having a very pleasant argument."

"Is this conversation the same as what you have with Mum?"

Blaise's ears suddenly perked up.

"What did you say, Scorpius?" Blaise grinned evilly.

"Mum and Daddy always argue, it's annoying." Scorpius frowned.

"Those are private matters, Scorpius…" Draco warned.

"It doesn't seem very private when you both scream!" Scorpius replied loudly.

"What do they argue about?" Blaise asked and received a looming glare from his best friend.

Scorpius looked from Blaise to a glaring Draco.

"I don't think Daddy wants me to tell."

"Oh, really?" Blaise smirked and _Accio'd _a small cup of sorbet. "Not even for some strawberry sorbet?"

Draco could see that Scorpius' resistance was slipping.

"Ooooh! Sorbet! May I?"

"Tut, tut," Blaise clucked, shaking his head no. "Not until you tell me what your parents argue about."

"Daddy used to call Mum a mudblood. Is that a bad word?"

"Scorpius…"

"Yes. One spoon for you." Blaise fed an open-mouthed Scorpius. "What else?"

"Daddy always stomps his feet whenever he loses an argument. Which is everytime."

"Scorpius, I'm warning you…"

"Two spoons! What else?"

"But lately, Daddy is very resil… resi… Oh, I forgot the word! Mum taught me that."

"Resilient?" Blaise faux-gasped. "How?"

"He mutters Mum's name when he sleepwalks."

"Scorpius, get out! You're not making any sense."

"But I'm just telling…"

"Get out! And mind your own business! Stop lying!" Draco accused, barking.

Scorpius' eyes watered.

"I was only telling the truth."

"Well, your truth was out of line, get out!"

"You're mean. I hate you."

Scorpius ran outside, sniffling.

"Must you be so hard on your little one?" Blaise grinned. "But wow, interesting. You mutter Granger's name."

"I do not."

"Whatever, Draco," Blaise stood up and fixed his trenchcoat on. "I doubt if Scorpius' truth is out of line…"

"Pardon?"

"Just sign the contract, okay? I'll see you tomorrow. And good luck with the first day of custody too."

And with that, Blaise Disapparated.

Draco shook his head as he pondered on Jeffries' contract, _Accioing _a random pen that had a shade of pale pink and he wondered how he could have gotten a shade so _feminine._ He observed it, wondering if his mother had left it as an heirloom or something and inhaled sharply upon seeing two initials:

_H. G._

Oh, how he hated the influx of thoughts, these nonsensical reveries! But nevertheless, he used the pen and he loved how his handwriting looked quite neat for the first time.

Hermione clutched her locket nervously as she trudged through the walkway leading to the Malfoy Manor. It had been a long time since she had been there… _lived_ there…

Remembering Malfoy Manor made her remember her marriage and how the only good thing that she had remembered Draco doing was this joint custody thing.

She walked on, her heart pounding with every step she took and the pathway led to a grand mansion that increased in size as she neared it. She squeezed the crumpled letter in her pocket and she felt her nervousness go away.

_I can do this… I can do this…_

She reached the black gate and opened the doors, squeaking slightly. She went inside, sealing the doors behind her and walked on the pavement leading to the entrance.

She held her breath upon reaching the area and squeezed the letter once more before knocking.

"A chimaera is a vicious, bloodthirsty creature with a lion's head, a goat's body, and a dragon's tail." Draco voiced, seeing his son read silently in the living room.

His son said nothing.

"Very fierce creatures they are."

Still nothing.

He then settled himself on the seat beside his son on the couch.

"I'm sorry about earlier, Scorpius," Draco apologized. "I didn't mean what I said."

"You called me a liar."

"I was just steamed today by your Uncle Blaise."

"Were you fighting?"

"No. Just arguing as friends."

"I don't like it when you're mad."

"I know. But I guess I have to be mad sometimes or else happy Dad would be boring."

"I don't find you boring." Scorpius replied quietly, cracking a small smile.

Draco embraced his son.

"What if I turned into a chimaera?"

"I'd still love you," Scorpius replied shyly. "Even if you were a monster."

"Well, I am a monster."

"Really?"

"Yes, a tickle monster!"

He tickled his son's sides and Scorpius burst into a fit of giggles that got him hiccupping. He knew that apologies were always meant to be warm but he felt tired. Tired and exasperated for apologizing for his actions. _Actions he didn't even understand._

He sighed, ignoring the daily influx of reveries that flashed through his mind, reminding him of the day's events.

He heard two knocks and then a doorbell.

He got up and left a giggling Scorpius to read while he answered the front door.

_Blaise…Jeffries… custody… Granger…_

Those four people ran through his mind until they started eliminating themselves with _Granger_ the only thought pounding constantly.

He shook his head, trying to get rid of the thought and upon answering the door…

Speak of the devil.


	11. Hermione's Turn at Bat

**Disclaimer: I do not own HP. :-)**

**A/N: Enjoy! I am at a loss of ideas. Await my next post prolly Monday or Sunday night. Depends!  
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The last time Draco had seen Hermione was in the form of a wildebeest ready to attack. Her eyes were glaring, her nose was flaring, and her mouth was shooting words of insult at an unbelievable pace. She was ranting about her financial issues, her rejection of joint custody, and her jealousy towards Draco's "I-can-get-anything-that-I-want" attitude and in reality, he _could _get anything he want.

But when he opened the door, he saw a Hermione in defense position, cowering and closing her eyes. She was silent and Draco just looked at her for about twenty seconds before he leaned on the doorframe, his legs crossed.

"Granger?"

"Funny," Hermione piped up, her eyes still shut. "I didn't hear the door slam."

"It's funny how you got yourself prepared," Draco replied. "Unlike I who just received it impromptu style."

"Malfoy? Is that you?"

"No, it's Weasley," Draco snapped. "Of course, it's me! How on earth could Weasel afford this place? You'd have to sell the Burrow plus send off three of his siblings…"

"Must you speak so ill of Ronald?"

"The truth is not sick."

"You're sick."

"Are you here to insult me?" Draco said coldly, standing straight now and his arms were crossed. "I would very much like to use the 'slam-the-door' feature right about now."

"Wait," Hermione shook her head vigorously. "I didn't mean to say that. I came here to…"

"To what?"

"I…"

"Are we speaking monosyllabically now?" Draco huffed, tapping his foot impatiently. "Come now, I haven't the time to play _Hangman_ with you."

"I'm getting to it," Hermione said, frustrated at her nervousness and still reeling from the fact that Draco hadn't slammed the door on her yet. "Be patient."

"Be patient?" Draco laughed. "You're one to talk, _door slammer_."

Hermione flushed.

She reached into her jeans pocket and produced the crumpled custody letter and waved it in front of his face.

"What are you doing, Granger?" Draco grimaced as he saw the paper flailing. "I have perfect vision."

"You sent this, didn't you?"

"Sent what?" Draco read the letterhead and inhaled sharply, preparing for full-on denial. "A letter from the Ministry? Check your _Daily Prophet_ because it's making the wrong predictions."

"What?"

"Read the name below," Draco motioned with his finger _Rufus Scrimgeour_. "Do you think I'm _Rufus Scrimgeour_?"

"You sent it." Hermione insisted, crossing her arms.

"No, I did not!"

"Just admit it."

"Admit what? That I drank a Polyjuice and I'm really Scrimgeour under this good-looking prat?"

"You are so full of yourself."

"My thoughts exactly."

Hermione shook her head, watching Draco's eyes avoiding hers.

"By the way, a note was attached to this letter," Hermione produced an envelope and retrieved a small piece of paper from it. "Mind helping me recognize the handwriting?"

"So now I'm a handwriting expert?"

"Oh, you will know much more than just handwriting when you read this note."

Draco grabbed the note from Hermione's hand and read it, knowing that he'd been found out.

_I know that you don't want me to speak to you but I realized that maybe this apology will work in more ways than one. At least, I hope so. –DM_

"Familiar?" Hermione smirked.

"And so what if I sent it?" Draco crossed his arms again, his face a shade of pale red. "Are you going to arrest me?"

Hermione smiled shyly.

"I… That's the reason why I came here, Malfoy."

"To embarrass me?"

"On the contrary," Hermione stuffed the letter and the envelope with the note in her pocket. "I wanted to thank you for doing this for me."

Draco felt numbing sensations course through his body, another one of those new feelings he didn't understand. _This must how it feels like to have someone thank you for something._

"No one's ever done this for me at all," Hermione continued. "And after receiving this joint custody thing, I realized you didn't deserve the things that I've said to you. This letter might have been the nicest thing you've ever done for me."

"Oh, please," Draco held his hand up. "The mere fact that you were married to me was already the nicest thing you have ever experienced from me."

The two laughed awkwardly and Draco noticed a glinting jade jewel hanging on her neck.

"You still have that?"

Hermione glanced questioningly at him.

"What?"

"That necklace," Draco cracked a smile. "I thought you'd throw it out or something."

"What are you talking about—" Hermione fiddled the chain and looked down. "Oh, this? I… I sort of like it."

"Well, thanks."

"It's a nice jewel."

Hermione racked her head for more conversation starters because the conversation was still awkward. She felt the tension between her and Draco because they never really got around to much conversing, she only remembering the screaming and the yelling.

Draco exhaled sharply, also advising Hermione that he too felt the thorny air sting him.

"It's joint custody tomorrow."

"Yeah, the first day." Draco whistled, looking around, not knowing what to say.

"So…"

"So…"

Hermione checked her watch and smiled weakly at Draco.

"It's getting late."

Draco checked his watch as well, shocked that it was already eight pm.

"Oh. Well, do you have to go so soon?"

"I have work in the morning."

"Oh, right."

"Yeah," Hermione giggled nervously. "The old workaholic I am."

"I know."

Hermione nodded and turned.

"Oh Merlin!" Hermione faced Draco again.

"What?"

"I forgot to apologize!"

"Apologize for what?"

"You know."

"What?"

"Here goes. I'm sorry for what I said to you two weeks ago. I was over the edge that time, reeling from all the drama…"

"What drama?" Draco smirked.

"Must you make me tell you again?" Hermione groaned. "You already know the whole story."

"What if I've forgotten? You have to remind me of what you've done. I'll forget after I forgive you."

"Can you forget first?"

Draco shook his head.

"No. The statement doesn't go 'forget and forgive.' If the statement does go around like that, what will the one who was faulted forgive the one at fault for?"

"Spot-on analogy."

"As expected."

"You have done nice things for me and yet you're still a git."

Draco grinned.

"Time's wasting."

Hermione begrudgingly apologized for calling him an arse, a prick, an irresponsible drunk… and Draco made her apologize to him thrice.

"Are you done torturing me, sadist?"

Draco crossed his arms.

"Hmm, maybe. Off you go."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

"Friends?"

Draco took her hand in his and shook it firmly, suddenly relishing the feel of her hand on his palm.

"Most definitely," Draco half-smiled now, sighing in relief that their relationship was fixed. "Don't be late, Granger. I have work in the morning. Scorpius will be ready for his lesson tomorr—"

"Mum!" Scorpius ran to Hermione and hugged her legs for he was too short to reach her height.

"Scorpius love!"

"What are you doing here?"

"I just came to talk things over with Daddy," Hermione bent down, grinning at her stepson and spotting a familiar book tucked under his arm. "What's that you're reading there?"

"_Fantastic Beasts_!" Scorpius smiled cheekily. "It's a good read, Mum! I learned about chimaeras and Cerby…Cerby-rus."

"Cerberus, son." Draco corrected, looking down at Scorpius.

Hermione glanced at Draco and their eyes met.

"Fantastic Beasts?" Hermione gasped. "But you said that you would never let Scorpius read such drivel—"

"I couldn't believe it too, Mum!" Scorpius cut in joyfully, clutching his book tightly. "But Daddy suddenly bought me this and much more adventure books with Manny the Manticore!"

Draco bent down and ruffled his son's head, beaming at his progeny.

"Let's just say a certain _conversation_ turned my beliefs around."

He stared at Hermione and she could feel a slight blush creeping on her cheeks.

"Well," Hermione smoothed her skirt as she stood up. "I must be going. Thank you, Scorpius, for showing me your Daddy's new love for mythical creatures."

Draco glanced at her knowingly, standing up.

"And thank you too, Malfoy, for everything."

"Anytime," Draco looked at his son who was deep into reading _Fantastic Beasts_ for the second time that day. "Aren't you going to bid your mum goodbye?"

"Oh," Scorpius slammed his book shut. "'Bye, mum! I'll see you for our lesson tomorrow."

"Sleep well, my little manticore."

Scorpius giggled cheekily and buried his face in Hermione's legs again.

Draco smiled at her one last time before going inside and shutting the door.

Hermione turned to walk home and she felt frustrated, not knowing how to carry a conversation.

It was damn awkward, really, speaking with the person who was once your archenemy.

Hermione smiled as she Disapparated, finally knowing that this drama with Draco was over.

Or maybe it was the fact that Draco Malfoy's smile caught her off guard.


	12. How Are You?

**Disclaimer: I do not own HP. :-)**

**A/N: Hello again! Here's the latest, sorry for the delay in update! I was pretty busy this week. R&R please and I will give you a shoutout in my next chapter. :D And have high hopes! I will be posting the next chapter by tomorrow. :D  
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**A/N 2: hello NessaWayMalfoy, here's your mention! You are absolutely wonderful!**

**A/N 3: I have a tumblr, everyone! .com :) enjoy!  
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It had been a week since the apology and technically three weeks after joint custody and it seemed like Hermione was doing okay. She was late on the first day, yes, but surprisingly, Draco was mum about her tardiness. As she perused through a new stack of contracts, she watched Scorpius eat sorbet for what seemed like the tenth time that day, and she wished that life didn't have to have such complicated choices.

She tapped her fingers frustratingly as she read through the details of divorce papers and frowned at the stupid reasons they listed down plus some side comments made by Greg Yates, her colleague and fellow lawyer. She had to decide if she wanted to take the case or if the case was sufficient enough for further investigation, as it was listed there in the stamp Yates had put at the right corner of the parchment.

And after a while, her thoughts began to sink in. She remembered a few months back when she had divorced with Draco and she remembered the fight they had in the office with Flaherty constantly interjecting.

_Why was he so happy to divorce me right away? _She questioned herself.

_"Finally, I'm a free man!" Draco clapped his hands together as he grabbed his leather trenchcoat from the seat. He grabbed his wand and shot fireworks out of the tip, leaving Hermione very annoyed._

_ "Please take your lights somewhere else, ferret." She grabbed her coat and her bag and walked out of the conference room._

_ "Huffy, aren't we, Granger?" Draco smirked._

_ "I'm not pigheaded enough to celebrate divorces even if it's involving me and someone I have hated for the past 10 or so years. Now, get out of the way. I have Ministry work to do."_

She knew that that memory wasn't supposed to sting. That was not supposed to sting. She was supposed to ignore that memory and move on. Divorcing Draco was supposed to be a no-big-deal sort of thing and yet she found herself pondering longer on the words he said right after they signed the contracts.

_"I'm a free man!"_

_Free man…_

_ Free man…_

"Mum?"

Hermione shook her head, her thoughts disappearing and she turned to face her son.

"Yes, Scorpius?"

"What are you doing?"

Hermione smiled and showed him a contract.

"What's divorce?"

"I…erm… it's a contract two married people sign when they don't love each other anymore."

Scorpius looked at the paper and then at his mother.

"Not love each other anymore?" Scorpius repeated as he licked his spoon clean. "Like you and Daddy?"

Hermione was taken aback by the blatant tone Scorpius had used on that statement and she shook her head.

"It's a very complicated thing, your Dad and I."

"What's so complicated about love?"

Hermione chortled good-naturedly at her stepson's naivete. And at the same time, that question seemed to hit home.

_Yes, Hermione_, she thought to herself. _What is complicated about love?_

"It's not exactly like the fairytales I read to you."

Scorpius' eyes widened like saucer plates.

"But aren't fairytales real?"

Hermione sighed heavily.

"Only for some people, darling."

Hermione lingered a bit on the statement and then snapped to her usual, bubbly self.

"Now, who wants a bubble bath?"

Scorpius grinned cheekily.

"I don't!"

Hermione got up from her seat and Scorpius ran into hiding.

"You can't hide from me, love!" Hermione giggled as she ran around the house looking for her stepson.

Draco sat alone in the flat, reading the _Daily Prophet_ while eating leftover pumpkin pie that he had brought home from dinner with Blaise and Pansy. He remembered how happy they were, disgustingly nuzzling like crazed lovebirds on the run.

And in a way, this marriage of theirs was a reward.

He contemplated on watching the couple grow, standing by his best friend's side as he verbally tore Henry Jeffries' pride and dignity to bits when he had kissed an inebriated Pansy under a mistletoe last Christmas and then the horror and rage Blaise had felt when he had seen the two of them in their bed, snogging like mad.

Blaise wasn't one to throw punches and cause bleed-worthy warfares, but his tongue was as sharp as a knife and his insults had Jeffries spiraling into depression for two months and Draco had witnessed all of it.

Of course, it had been a year since then and Henry Jeffries had finally recovered from that depression, but he was still stuck in that dead-end job, because Blaise had bewitched the promotion papers to never flash the name "Henry Jeffries" until he removed the hex.

Draco couldn't understand the love Blaise felt for Pansy. He had asked his best friend constantly, trying to picture still having this feeling for a person who had cheated on him with a colleague.

Knowing Draco, he would have blurted to the whole world that she was a wench and making sure that the word was splayed all over the paper, and then giving the guy a good punch in the face.

_"How could you love her?" Draco asked, shaking his head as he poured the wine. Pansy had gone to the ladies' powder room for a quick make-up fix._

_ Blaise looked at his best friend thoughtfully._

_ "Love who? Pansy?"_

_ "No," Draco replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes while twirling his wine glass idly to make the wine breathe. "Ginny Weasley. Of course, Parkinson!"_

_ "You ask a stupid question, I give you a stupid question in return." Blaise replied blatantly, sipping the wine._

_ "Really," Draco shook his head, finally taking a sip. "How could you still love her even if she cheated on you with Jeffries? If I were you, I would have exiled them both to uncharted waters."_

_ "I'm not you."_

_ "What do you mean by that?"_

_ "I'm not you," Blaise replied, sighing. "I'm not you."_

_ "You're not just me," Draco replied. "You're not like everyone else! How could you forgive her?"_

_ "Are you questioning her loyalty?"_

_ "Well, sort of, but I'm just curious, really."_

_ "I love her."_

_ "You what?"_

_ "I love her."_

_ "I heard it right, but how does love outlast cheating? Doesn't that cancel out the whole thing?" _

_ "Look, we've had our ups and downs, and I know that Pansy made a mistake. We all make mistakes, Draco, but the good thing with her is she didn't run away with him. I still got her."_

_ "Look at you speak!" Draco exclaimed, his head spinning. "What's happening to my best friend?"_

_ "I've grown up."_

_ "And you're leaving me alone to rot in bachelor town?" Draco quipped, laughing. "Some friend you are."_

_ Blaise cracked up._

_ "I know you don't understand it now," Blaise shook his head and moved a bit for Pansy to pass. "But soon enough, you will."_

_ "What are you men rattling about?" Pansy asked, her eyebrow up. "Those women by the bar?"_

_ "They are fine birds," Blaise commented. "But no one is a finer bird than you are, darling."_

_ "Oh, Blaise…" she sighed as Blaise kissed her on the cheek._

_ "Who are you?" Draco snickered as he mouthed the words._

_ "That's what marriage does to you, I guess." Blaise shrugged as Pansy giggled into his hair._

_ "Granger didn't transform me." Draco huffed._

_ "Did you expect to change in six months?" Blaise replied as Pansy straightened up. "Imperio couldn't even last with Pius Thicknesse who recovered right after Voldemort died. It's a progressive concept, change."_

_ "Whatever."_

_ "But you will eventually get that change if you get hold of it in time."_

Draco sighed as he flipped to the next page.

_You will eventually get that change if you get hold of it in time._

It was twelve AM now.

Why did he have a hard time sleeping again?

He needed to talk to someone but he assumed that Hermione and Scorpius were snoring their arses off, given that it was already midnight.

He had a second person in mind but he was debating over it. Must he really go there?

But he wanted to sleep and knowing that second person, he could sleep better.

With a sigh, he changed into a black, long-sleeved shirt tucked into jeans and black loafers and Disapparated.

"It's a miracle you visited." The man with the silky, platinum-blond hair drawled, tapping his fingers idly on the metal table.

"I couldn't sleep."

"So, I'm your new lullaby?"

"Can't we talk decently, Father?"

Lucius scoffed.

"Don't talk to me like you've met me yesterday," Lucius hissed. "You know who I am."

Draco rolled his eyes as he felt the spirits of sleep tempt him slowly.

"But I do ask, Draco," Lucius side-glanced at his son. "How are you?"

"Is that some kind of joke?"

"No," Lucius replied silkily. "There's no one decent or smart ones to talk with around here."

"Are you saying I'm of appropriate intellectual decency?" Draco replied hopefully, silently chiding himself for still seeking his father's approval.

"No, but you're one level up from the prisoners here."

"Still the same Lucius Malfoy."

"I try hard to maintain my pride."

Draco sighed, feeling tired.

"Am I lulling you to sleep? Glad I helped."

"I just miss having someone to argue with, that's all."

"What about that Granger girl? Isn't she intelligent enough?"

"Are you all right?" Draco asked as he stood up, feeling his father's head for heat. "Did you just say that Granger was intelligent?"

"Oh, don't be such a prick," Lucius swatted his hand. "I've had a lot of respect for her ever since she… you know…"

"Saved us?" Draco replied.

"Yes," Lucius sighed. "I know I'm going to be trapped here for life but at least I could still watch over you. She saved a life."

"Yes she did." Draco nodded.

Lucius threw his son a hard glare and said, "You have to promise me something."

"What?"

"Start a family."

Draco's eyes shot up.

"Just when I was about to get tired," Draco snapped. "What did you say?"

"Did you suddenly lose your sense of hearing?" Lucius snapped back. "I said, _start a family_."

"Do you have any other favors I could do?"

"I'm growing old," Lucius sighed heavily as he looked at the barred window, the moon shining brightly. "I need you to continue our bloodline."

"Oh, I thought you were getting soft," Draco replied, toying with his trenchcoat. "And since when had this epiphany started?"

"Don't be gittish, son," Lucius said, facing Draco. "You have to make sure that your future children are as smart and as determined as our generation was."

"What else do you want to lay on my plate, Father?"

"Just make sure that you and your family won't lead the same lives we did. I still blame myself everyday for my mistakes."

Draco glanced awkwardly at his now vulnerable father. He sighed and stood up, knowing it was time to go.

"Do I have your word?"

Draco cleared his throat and turned on his heel.

"You have my word."

"Good," Lucius replied. "And, I…thank you for visiting me. It felt… nice."

"Glad to have done you a favor."

Hermione held the flowers in her hand as she stood out in the cold, shivering and cursing inwardly.

_Why hadn't she brought a coat?_

She shook her head, knowing that comfort was the least of her concerns. She left Scorpius with a Protective Charm while she Apparated somewhere because she needed to talk to her parents.

Her _late_ parents.

And she didn't mean tardiness.

She knelt down on the ground and placed two flowers each on the graves of her loved ones and stood up, her eyes filling with tears.

"I'm sorry, Mum," Hermione gasped silently. "I promised I wouldn't cry."

Silence.

She then turned to her dad's grave and breathed.

"It's hard when you both are not around to advise me on things," Hermione sighed, sniffling. "You were both very wise people."

"I wish you could answer me right now, seeing how poor my choices were ever since your deaths. I'm still reeling from it all."

She laughed bitterly.

"I wish I were brave like you both," Hermione continued. "I wish I could have stood up like you both did when the Death Eaters found you."

She shook her head, her heart filling with regret.

"I should have Obliviated you both," Hermione stomped her foot in frustration. "I should have."

The wind whistled and the trees' leaves were rustling. She could have sworn she heard a voice that asked, _how are you?_

"How am I?" Hermione laughed bitterly. "How am I?"

She shook her head.

"I had a bad marriage, is that enough for you guys to hear?" Hermione whispered.

"And other things of course, but the fact that I divorced after six months… I can't even find a decent husband… I've wanted to have a marriage like yours, that's all."

Hermione cried softly, frustrated at how she couldn't get things together. She knew that her parents were sort of aware of her plans but she didn't want to admit that she was moving to France for a different reason.

Yes, she was running away.

But for a very different reason.

How are you?


	13. The Seventh Week

**Disclaimer: I do not own HP. :-)**

**A/N: I am totally bad at keeping promises, I am so sorry. Kinda short one for now but I have a great idea for the fourteenth and fifteenth chapter so bear with me!  
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Three knocks stirred Hermione from her less-than-rested slumber. Her baggy eyes, her disheveled hair, and her mismatched pyjamas showed that she had slept at three in the morning already. She cursed loudly, dragging her groggy self out of the couch and stumbling. She cursed again, appalled at her sudden out-of-routine behavior. Why had she fallen asleep on the couch? She had a lovely, king-size bed with fluffy pillows and a comfortable blanket…

She rubbed her eyes and saw that a photo album was half-open and a cup of…

"What did I drink last night?"

She bent down on the coffee table and reached for the white mug.

Her heart thudded.

_Why couldn't she remember anything?_

As she smelled the rim of the mug in her hand, she sighed in relief.

_Coffee_.

That explained the insomnia.

The knocks were persistent, each pound on the door louder than the next. She stood up, rushing towards the door and peeking through the peephole, only to find a blond man outside her porch. She looked at herself in the foyer mirror and started quick-fixing herself.

The knocks were getting louder.

"Hold on!"

She stuck her wand a little inside her mouth and breath spray spread itself. With one last look at the mirror, she found Draco Malfoy adjusting his buttons on his black polo shirt.

"Granger." Draco drawled, his silvers boring into her browns. And Hermione started to notice how glaring the sunlight was due to the reflection pad Draco's hair acted as.

"You could have informed me of your drop-in, you know," Hermione replied. "I really don't mind visitors."

"I like surprises." Draco said.

Silence hung over them again and Hermione's head thudded with frustration. She hated this!

_Should I talk about… no… too personal…_ she thought, possible ideas for conversation flooding into her mind all too quickly.

"Where's Scorpius?" Draco asked, his blond head hovering just above Hermione's shoulder as he peeked into the foyer. "Is he awake?"

"Not yet," Hermione shook her head and mentally smacked herself. _Scorpius! Of course! That would have been a wonderful conversation topic._ "Do you want to come in?"

"It's a miracle you would ask me that question," Draco trilled, fingering his trenchcoat. "The last time I came over…"

"Must you torture me with memories?"

"Memories always torture you," Draco replied, his voice sounding distant. "You can't just demand them to stop."

And for the first time, she agreed with his input.

Draco stepped into Hermione's home for what seemed like the first time in his life. He knew that he had been to her house once or twice but never bothered to look into it due to his growing contempt for his archnemesis. But now that they have recently mended ties and are now civil acquaintances (at least for the time being), he noticed a lot of things about the place.

The one-storey house was actually a lot more spacious than he had expected. The foyer greeted him as he entered the brown, mahogany door and to his right was a medium-sized mirror and below that was a round, glass table with black trimmings and edges. A hanging chandelier proved a grand welcome into the living room and dining room with a medium-sized kitchen behind the dining table. He then stopped and saw the messy couch with the coffee mug and pillows strewn everywhere. He turned to face a guilty-looking Hermione who was whistling a nonsensical tune.

"What?" Hermione asked nonchalantly.

Draco shook his head, smirking.

"I never knew how untidy you were," Draco commented as he gingerly pinched a coffee-stained tissue that was laid onto the table along with its other tissue companions. "Tell me, how could McGonagall and Dumbledore et cetera not look past your so-called 'obsessive-compulsive' nature?"

"I just haven't slept well, all right?" Hermione snapped.

Draco's eyes shot up but he didn't say anything.

"Sorry."

Hermione's eyes widened and she realized the rude nature of her tone, recoiling.

"I didn't mean to snap, Malfoy," Hermione replied softly. "I just didn't sleep well."

"It's quite all right," Draco sighed. "I haven't slept well either."

"I see." Hermione remarked, debating whether to ask why or to keep mum about her curiousity.

Draco glanced at the out-of-bed look that Hermione was putting on and smirked. "But I still am the better one."

"Why?"

"Because I look decent and you don't."

Hermione flushed red.

"Must you tease me in the morning? It's a bit too early for your snarky self to rise."

"My snarky self is never too early to get up."

Silence.

"So…"

"So…"

Draco coughed loudly, trying to break the tension. He looked around and prayed for some sort of conversational topic. It was truly his desire to make friends with Hermione, and even if they declared themselves re-tied, they still weren't talking. And the awkwardness was still there.

He knew Hermione could feel it too and he wished that a bomb would drop just so they could both scream and ramble about that event. Yes, he was that desperate.

The guilt was still eating him up, even if that piece of news was three weeks old. He knew she was leaving in seven weeks, therefore he had to work fast.

"Granger, I…"

"Daddy?"

Draco turned around and saw a sleepy-looking Scorpius rubbing the sleep from his eyes and adorably dressed in his green silk pyjamas, his blond head disheveled.

"Hello there, son."

"Daddy!" he repeated, running to him and hugging his leg.

"I've missed you." Draco kissed the top of his son's head and ruffled his hair.

"I had so much fun with Mummy this week! We played hide and seek and she read more books to me plus she let me help her with her potion-making."

Draco glanced at Hermione.

"Potion-making?" Draco raised his left eyebrow. "Since when were you knowledgeable in potions, Granger?"

"Since ever." Hermione bragged.

"Oh, rubbish," Draco stood up and held Scorpius' hand. "I think Snape just felt sorry for you that one time during finals when you mixed grassroot with wolfsbane, a mixture clearly prone to explosion."

"Professors _never_ feel sorry for me," Hermione glared at him. "Take that back."

"I will take that comment back if you say that I am the better potions master."

"No."

"Why not, Granger? Afraid that for once, I am the one on top?"

Hermione suddenly realized that she was wearing a tank top and skimpy shorts.

"Oh, Merlin!" Hermione exclaimed. "Why didn't you tell me that I was dressed indecently?"

"I did," Draco replied simply. "But you were busy arguing with me to notice."

"I'm going upstairs."

"Hopefully your fashion sense changed ever since the time we divorced."

"Shut up!" she replied from upstairs.

"I like it when you both talk more friendlier." Scorpius commented.

"You mean in a more friendly manner?" Draco corrected, smiling softly at his progeny.

"Yes."

"I'm glad too." Draco replied quietly.

Hermione then descended, wearing a white tank top and jeans paired with sneakers.

"So, you had fun with Mum, love?"

"Yes, mum, I did! Thank you."

Hermione bent down and kissed her son. She then packed his backpack with pumpkin pasties and flicked her wand on a small sorbet container with a Freezing Charm.

"Those are treats for you to eat at home."

"Thank you Mummy! But don't you have for yourself also?"

"I do have a lot of treats for myself, thank you for asking, darling."

Hermione helped Scorpius slip on the backpack and she led the Malfoys to the door.

"So, where are you both going tonight?" Hermione asked. "Just staying at home?"

"No," Scorpius said. "We're eating at a yummy place tonight. Daddy, what was it called?"

"Garth's." Draco replied.

"Mummy, do you want to come?"

"Only if Daddy wants me to go."

Scorpius looked at his dad pleadingly.

"Please, Daddy?"

Draco looked at Hermione who was smiling at his son and prayed again that the decision he will make will not affect or make the situation any more awkward.

"Of course you can come, Granger."

Hermione smiled.

"Thanks for the invite. Do we go now?"

"Yes, Mum!" Scorpius clapped. "I'm starved."


	14. After That

**Disclaimer: I do not own HP. :-)**

**A/N: Sorry for the late update! :-( but anywho, enjoy! and more reviews please hehe **

"So what happened yesterday?" Harry asked as he spooned himself a helping of pudding.

"What's with yesterday?" Hermione replied, forking chocolate cake into her mouth. The three friends were huddled in a corner of Honeydukes' new branch located outside the Ministry. Honeydukes was the sweet shop in Hogsmeade, an all-wizarding village founded by Hengist of Woodcroft. Usually, wizards and witches alike would go there for weekend trips but usually, the students of Hogwarts accessed this area. The three of them favored Honeydukes because of the numerous sweets that welcomed the customers upon entering the shop, and the fact that they used that area as some sort of hiding place during the War at Hogwarts before going to Aberforth's.

"You had dinner with Malfoy, right?" Harry reminded her.

Ron gasped, accidentally choking on his pie.

"YOU HAD DINNER WITH MALFOY?"

"Oh, Ronald," Hermione shook her head as he watched a red-faced Ron struggling to breathe. "Don't be such a baby. Of course, I had dinner with Malfoy."

"WHY—" Ron sputtered, gulping down water. "WHAT MADE YOU—"

"To answer your demands," Hermione slammed her glass onto the table. "It was more of retying bonds."

"Retying bonds?" Ron exclaimed. "Why are you dining with the enemy?"

"Get over yourself, Ron," Hermione snapped. "How could you be so immature as to think we're still enemies? The War's over, he moved to the other side… And the fact that we were married for six months… I think those events speak 'maturity!' out loud!"

"She's right, you know." Harry chimed in.

"Are you deranged, Harry?" Ron exclaimed. "Since when have you been chummy with our archenemy? You've been defending him lately and I don't like it. Do you remember what he did to Hermione three weeks ago?"

"All is well and forgiven," Hermione sighed, exasperated with how Ron's attutude was showing. "Grow up, Ron. You can't help it if we both decided to rebuild our past relationship and grow it into the other direction."

"Other direction?" Ron asked as he crinkled his eyebrows in confusion.

"Friendship." Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Friends? Are you fraternizing with the enemy again?" Ron asked, remembering how he had said the same line to Hermione after Viktor Krum had brought her to the Yule Ball as his date.

"First off, he's not like Viktor."

"Well, at least Viktor was successful!"

"Enough, Ronald!" Hermione demanded, slamming her fork on the table. "Face the facts that we have to be friends due to our being in joint custody. It's hard enough that it was awkward at the start and if we try to avoid each other even more, the harder it will be for us to get along and this custody thing is for Scorpius as well."

Ron kept silent so Harry spoke up.

"What happened yesterday then?" Harry said, spooning himself another helping of pudding.

"It was actually nice."

"Nice?" Harry asked, curious. "In what sense? Sorry for being so disbelieving about all this but you did mention awkwardness at the start of your 'retying.'"

"I thought it would have been awkward too, given that Scorpius invited me out and I had to seek the approval of Draco after. I didn't know if he wanted me to go, even if he said yes. His tone said otherwise but you know me, I can't tell sincerity from hypocrisy."

"Moving on," Harry nudged a frowning Ron and sulking, the redhead forked himself a helping of Hermione's cake, to which Hermione responded with a swat. "In what sense was the dinner _nice_?"

_Upon Apparating outside the entrance of Garth's, Draco opened the door for Hermione as a maitre d' welcomed the trio in. Hermione was quite surprised because he had never seen Draco act so gentlemanly before. _

_ The maitre d' led them to a four-chair table filled with unclean plates, splayed out forks with grime from the previously served food. A chandelier hovered itself just above them and the maitre d', obviously miffed at the sight and at the incompetence of the waiters, subtly flicked his wand and the mess was all gone. _

_ "So sorry about that." the maitre d' apologized._

_ "It's not a problem," Draco waved him off. "May we have our menus please?"_

_ "Right away." _

_ The maitre d' flicked his wand again and three menus appeared in front of them._

_ "What would you like, Scorpius?" Draco asked as he flipped the pages._

_ "I'd like the pumpkin pie please."_

_ "Pumpkin pie?" Hermione asked. "Don't you think it's a bit too early for dessert, love?"_

_ "No," Scorpius shook his head. "I love pumpkin pie anytime."_

_ "But, darling," Hermione cooed, looking away from the menu and glancing at Scorpius. "Let's have a decent dinner first."_

_ "I want pumpkin pie, Mummy."_

_ "Your mother's right," Draco piped up, not looking up from his menu. "Have dinner first, son, then you can order two helpings of pumpkin pie."_

_ Scorpius sighed, defeated._

_ "Yes, Daddy."_

_ "That's my boy."_

_ Draco could see that Hermione's eyes widened due to his sudden agreement and he kept mum until she recovered and proceeded with her order._

_ In the end, Scorpius ordered beef stroganoff and Draco and Hermione both had prime rib. The air was not as tense as it was back in Hermione's house but they still weren't talking normally._

_ "So, Granger…"_

_ Finally, Hermione thought._

_ "Hmm?" Hermione hummed as she sliced her prime rib._

_ "How's work?"_

_ "At the ministry?"_

_ "No, being a maid at Potter's house," Draco replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Of course, the ministry."_

_ "It's all right, I guess," Hermione replied simply, not knowing what to say. "I like work there, being together with Ron and Harry."_

_ "Ah, sounds interesting." Draco drawled._

_ Hermione glanced at him._

_ "What?" Draco asked, eating his food._

_ "Are you being sarcastic again?"_

_ "Let me see," Draco tapped thoughtfully on his chin. "I find it interesting that you talk about Weasel and Potter… think about it, Granger."_

_ And to his surprise, she laughed._

_ "You find what funny now?"_

_ "Well, they are a bit droll at times."_

_ Draco dropped his fork in mock surprise._

_ "Did I hear Granger just insult her friends?"_

"WHAT?" Harry and Ron exclaimed simultaneously.

"What?" Hermione repeated innocently, avoiding their questioning stares.

"You find us boring?" Ron frowned. "As if getting together with Malfoy was bad enough."

"Is it my meat story?" Harry asked. "Because I do have a piquing interest in Australian beef…"

Hermione glanced at him in an "I-rest-my-case" way.

"Oh, right," Harry said. "I should get my hands on some juicy stories next time—"

"I think we can do without the meat references, thank you very much."

"Hmm, right, yes, sorry."

Hermione then glanced at Ron.

"What?" Ron replied, stuffing himself with pumpkin pie. "What's so boring about me?"

"Complaints about Davies and his girl Laura."

"What's wrong with that?" Ron replied. "Isn't it true? How disgusting those two are! Now that you've reminded me, I've heard one story…"

"Ron," Hermione interjected, holding her hand up. "I think we can do away with Davies and Laura for today."

"And as a matter of fact, forever," Harry slumped his shoulders and glanced at a frowning Ron. "Well, as much as we hated you mentioning that we were boring, seems like you broke the tension at our expense."

"At our expense!" Ron exclaimed. "Do you hear that? Why are you—"

"Oh, get off his case, Ronald." Hermione rolled her eyes, mouthing the word "immature" to boot.

"Anyway, what happened after?" Harry asked.

_"They're not perfect." Hermione added quickly._

_ "But I've never heard you insult them."_

_ "Is it a surprise to you?"_

_ "Obviously!" Draco exclaimed. "What makes them boring?"_

_ "Oh, so now you're interested?" Hermione laughed for the first time that night._

_ "I think we may have a hot topic on our hands." Draco clapped._

_ Hermione then began to tell Draco about the stories that they tell her everyday: the meat (Harry) and Davies (Ron) and Draco couldn't stop snickering._

_ "I don't know what's funnier," Draco replied. "Their humdrum lives or your declaring them."_

_ "I must admit, it is quite a laugh sometimes but I shouldn't be saying those things."_

_ "It's all right, really."_

_ "For you or for them?" Hermione teased._

_ "For them."_

_ Scorpius looked at them, confused._

_ "What are you talking about, Mummy?"_

_ "My friends, love, you should meet them."_

_ "Are they nice people?"_

_ "Well, one of them saved your dad's life."_

_ "Really?" Scorpius widened his eyes. "Daddy! Why didn't you tell me?"_

_ "It's not really something I bring up everyday."_

_ The table was silent again._

_ "So, erm, Malfoy," Hermione piped up. "How's work?"_

_ "Daddy's really busy, Mum," Scorpius interrupted as Draco's mouth opened to speak. "He's always holed up in his room with Uncle Blaise."_

_ "Hmm, Blaise," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Yes, Malfoy, how is Zabini?"_

_ "He's married to Parkinson." Draco replied, gulping water._

_ "Ah, are you saddened? Jealous?"_

_ "Of Pug-face?"_

_ "Of Pug—no, of Blaise."_

_ "Why should I be?"_

_ "He married your lover!"_

_ "Back in Hogwarts? Please, I move on quite fast."_

_ They exchanged banter very quickly and easily, with Scorpius including himself in the grown-up conversation. Before they knew it, twelve midnight was approaching and Draco called the maitre d' for the bill to which the maitre responded with a bill appearing in thin air, lowering itself on Draco's side of the table._

_ "Oh, you don't have to, Malfoy, really."_

_ "Oh, yes I do."_

_ Draco paid for the dinner and the three of them went outside and they bid each other goodbye._

_ "Thanks for tonight, Malfoy."_

_ "No, thank you, Granger," Draco replied, gripping Scorpius' hand tightly. "You made my night."_

_ And for some reason, Hermione flushed a pale pink._

_ "I'm glad I did."_

_ Draco cracked a smile involuntarily as Hermione Disapparated._

"So?"

"So what, Harry?"

"Are you going to see him again?" Ron interjected.

"Oh, so now you're into the story?" Hermione asked, her right eyebrow raised questioningly.

"No… I mean… no… it's just that…" Ron sputtered. "All right, yes."

"Yes." Hermione smiled.

"Why?" Ron grimaced. "I cannot imagine spending another night with that pompous arse…"

"A pompous arse with whose story you're very interested in."

"Whatever."

"So, when?"

"Tonight."

"Ah."

Hermione smiled, excited for what's in store. She was beginning to enjoy these weeks now that they've been fast friends with Draco.

"Hermione?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Could you not tell Draco about our boring lives ever again?"

Hermione laughed.

"Of course."


	15. Ironic Decency at 4AM

**Disclaimer: I do not own HP. :-)**

**A/N: SORRY FOR THE LONGER THAN LONG UPDATE! School is killing me. :| Yes, I have summer classes. Anyway, Kohana Moon reviewed my story and thought that the six-month timeline is really a huge flaw in the story and so she suggested a little time change. I haven't reset the other chapters yet but instead of a six-month marriage, it's a two-year marriage. Sorry for the change, friends! I do hope you will still follow. :D I will reset the others soon. ;-) Expect another chapter soon :D Enjoy this one in the meantime and please REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!  
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Hermione had thought about what Scorpius had said that night at Garth's. It was funny, wondering how Scorpius could not have met her friends, knowing that she had been with Draco for about two years now.

Or at least that was how she remembered it.

She didn't want to remember a lot of things during her two-year marriage to her archnemesis because she simply hated the idea of being with him. He was not her ideal man. He was bossy, he was cranky, he was always complaining, and can she forget the fact that he had put her under seven years of torture?

As she sat down, she tried to remember why she had accepted his marriage proposal. She sipped her tea, tapping aimlessly at her desk, her fingers drumming.

Why had she, anyway?

_It was November a year ago and Scorpius was celebrating his fifth birthday in Garth's. It was a rather bleak affair, seeing as Draco and Hermione were fresh out of another fight. The air was tense and frigid, and the lively background the restaurant had was not even enough. Scorpius was oblivious to the tension and was busily eating his chocolate cake, the eyes of his parents darting everywhere, avoiding each other's stares._

_ "What is so wrong with having Albus Severus over, Malfoy?" Hermione hissed, slamming her fork down, breaking the silence._

_ "I don't want Potter's vermin around my family." Draco snapped._

_ "And why on earth would you consider Harry's children to be vermin?" Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes._

_ "For one thing, it's Potter."_

_ "Get over the archnemesis bit, Malfoy, you are far too old for these childish squabbles."_

_ "Stop interfering with my relationships, Granger, I can hate whomever I want."_

_ "Well, are you trying to display to your son that hatred is a good thing to follow?"_

_ "Only if hatred is directed toward the right people!"_

_ Hermione scoffed. "Of course, the Malfoy hatred. I forgot how distinguished it must be to master your kind of grudges."_

_ "Get over the fact that your Mudblood ways are far too low for my liking!"_

_ "At least I have proper morals, Malfoy."_

_ "What are you talking about, Mum?" Scorpius asked, licking his fork clean._

_ "Just talking about how hatred is a very, very bad thing to keep within."_

_ "Oh, all right," Scorpius smiled cheekily, totally and obviously oblivious. "Go talk about hatred. What does that mean?"_

_ "It's just a very bad concept."_

_ "Oh." Scorpius wasn't paying attention anymore._

_ The bobbleheads Garth's had were bobbing slightly as the door opened to welcome new customers, letting in a bit of chilly wind. But the cold temperatures were no match for the heated argument between two cold and icy tones._

_ "You're ruining Scorpius' birthday, Malfoy!" Hermione exclaimed._

_ "You're blaming me again?" Draco sighed, twirling the goblet in his hand. "Tell me, Granger, when have you ever blamed yourself for a fault?"_

_ "I only blame myself when I've made the mistake, which by the way, I have never committed this entire time! You were the one who dragged me into this!"_

There was a soft knock on the door.

Hermione woke from the brief memory and walked over to the front porch, peeking through the peephole upon arrival.

And she was surprised to see a blond head of hair and a pair of greys outside.

"Malfoy?" Hermione whispered.

"Hey." Draco whispered back.

"Why are we whispering?"

"I don't know," Draco replied, returning to his normal voice. "You started it. Anyway, may I come in?"

"It's practically four in the morning," Hermione crossed her arms, clearly shivering from the cold. "Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"I should be asking you the same question," Draco replied thoughtfully, tapping his foot. "Now, may I enter? I'm shivering, if you don't mind."

"Oh, all right." Hermione rolled her eyes.

Draco threw his coat onto the couch and settled into the armchair next to it. "There must be something wrong with you if you come barging into my house at this time of night… or rather day."

"No, nothing wrong with me." Draco waved her off.

"Where is Scorpius?" Hermione asked. "You left him alone at home?"

"Oh, he's six, he can manage," Draco replied, crossing his legs and looking at an awkwardly seated Hermione who was shifting uncomfortably in her own armchair that was situated across from the one Draco was occupying. "I just wanted to ask you something."

"What?"

"Why'd you lie to him?" Draco questioned.

"Lie?" Hermione wrinkled her eyebrows. "Lie to whom?"

"Scorpius."

"If this is about the coffee-flavored pie being switched to chocolate at Garth's the other night, believe you me, the maitre d' was very incompetent…"

"Oh, nothing like that," Draco laughed softly, a kind of innocence Hermione had never heard him use a lot. "I knew from the very start that it was chocolate."

"I used a very subtle Switching spell, how could you have…" Hermione admitted and then slowly realized what she was doing. "Oh, oops."

"I knew it!" Draco smiled and Hermione felt her cheeks flame.

Draco and Hermione cracked up for a while.

"But seriously though," Draco switched to a more serious tone. "Why would you lie to him about Potter and Weasley?"

"I didn't really lie…" Hermione shrugged, avoiding the steely greys of her ex-husband.

"Oh, come now, I can bust your lies anytime," Draco replied. "I just need to know why."

"Look, it was your choice if you wanted to introduce Scorpius to my friends," Hermione shrugged. "He's your son."

"But why defend me?" Draco asked. "May I have a glass of water?"

"Are you a wizard or not?" Hermione scoffed.

"Oh, right, of course," Draco replied. "Sorry, bad insomnia effects."

He flicked his wand and out came a glass of ice-cold water with a green-and-silver coaster under.

"Slytherin? In my own house?" Hermione commented.

"Oh, I bring my pride _everywhere_."

They laughed again.

"Anyway, Granger, answer my question."

"I didn't defend you," Hermione replied simply, crossing her legs. "I just didn't want Scorpius to see that you were trying to show him that hatred you had for the two. You had to recover. You weren't ready."

"Yeah, I wasn't," Draco shook his head. "I'm such a prick."

"You can always make it up to Scorpius in another way."

"I want to make it up to you too."

Hermione was startled by his comment and she suddenly realized that it was getting a bit humid in the area.

"You do?" Hermione gulped.

"Yes," Draco nodded. "I'm ready."

"Ready for what?"

"I want Scorpius to meet Potter and Weasel," Draco declared. "It's about time anyway."

"Why the sudden change of heart?" Hermione asked.

Draco stood up, pacing the living area and finally stopping in front of one of her glass windows, showing the garden and the smallest traces of fading moonlight overhead.

"I may not like them," Draco admitted. "But I do need to show them some respect. They saved my life."

Hermione nodded, remembering the time when Draco was almost killed by the Death Eater and Harry held out his hand to save him with a yelling Ron behind him. Okay, Ron wasn't of much help but at least he didn't ask Harry to let go and watch Draco fall to his death.

"And I owe it to you too," Draco looked at her. "I guess, times like these make you realize things."

Strands of brown hair fell gently onto Hermione's face as she looked back at him and as she tucked them in individually with her finger, Draco was a bit mesmerized, staring a little too longer than he had expected. He coughed to distract himself.

"Well, that's great," Hermione smiled. "So, I'll bring him out to lunch tomorrow then?"

"I'll set the date," Draco replied. "I want to reorient myself with them again."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Draco said firmly. "I want to thank them properly again and show them sort of civility. I may not like them but I do want to change my way of living, especially now that I have Scorpius and he's growing up. I don't want him to…"

Hermione inhaled as she neared Draco.

"To what?" she whispered.

"To go through the same life I went through when I was his age."

Hermione laid her right hand on his shoulder.

"I doubt that he'll go through that."

Draco looked down and smiled.

"I like this."

"What do you like?"

"I like right now," Draco admitted. "Just a decent conversation."

"Pretty decent for four am, yes?"

They laughed again.

And Draco realized Hermione's hand was still on his shoulder.

Why hadn't he waved it off yet?

"It's funny, looking back," Draco chuckled. "Our fights were so immature."

"We were children," Hermione replied. "We have our stupid moments."

"Yes, you are quite right about that," Draco admitted. Hermione realized she still had her hand on Draco's shoulder and she quickly removed it. Draco flinched a bit and walked over to the couch to grab his coat. "I guess I should head out."

"You need your rest," Hermione smiled. "It's been a long good two hours of change. It's six am. Scorpius will be wondering where you are."

"Thank you," Draco replied as she walked with him towards the front door. "It sounds strange coming out of my mouth…"

Hermione laughed.

"But jesting aside, I do really want to thank you for listening," Draco continued. "Who knew a sharp and never-ending talker like you could keep mum for a while?"

"Must we bring up comments like that again?"

"Where's the fun if teasing and snide comebacks are out of the question?"

"Some things never change with you, Malfoy." Hermione shook her head as she opened the door for him.

"I don't need changing."

"Of course you don't." Hermione rolled her eyes.

Draco turned around and faced her after exiting her house.

"We have a unique relationship, you and I," Draco commented. "It's funny and warming in some sort of way, having an intelligent equal."

"But I do think that I'm a notch higher than you."

"Just because of Potions? I was second place."

"Yes, just Potions."

Draco was about to step off the porch when he said, "Oh, yes, this came in the mail… Actually, the mailman handed it to me."

Hermione received the envelope from him and smile-thanked him before he Disapparated.

She shut the door behind her and clutched the envelope tightly before turning over to see who sent it.

And the name that was on it after she had turned it over sent her heart sinking.

_From: Alexandre Lefevre._


	16. Hermione's Announcement

**Disclaimer: I do not own HP. :-)**

**A/N: One of the shorty chapters! But I owe you guys this much. :D I will promise you a longer chapter next time! Surprise and enjoy! :D review review review :)  
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Things progressed very well between Draco and Hermione after that 4am conversation. Hermione would frequently visit the Malfoy Manor and spend time with Scorpius and when he would fall asleep after a long day with his mum, Hermione would carry him to his bedroom and tuck him in his green silk covers with a half-smiling Draco leaning on the doorframe.

"Are the one-hundred retuckings not enough for you?" Draco quipped. "I think he's snug enough, thank you."

"I just want to make sure that he's warm enough," Hermione replied. "It is getting a bit chilly."

"Are you ready to head out?" Draco asked, handing her his trenchcoat.

"Of course," Hermione whispered. "I've had a rough day at work. I need a few drinks to de-stress."

Then she noticed that Draco was handing her his trenchcoat.

"This isn't mine." Hermione said slowly.

"I know," Draco shrugged. "But I figured you needed it."

"But what about—"

"Come now, Granger," Draco replied. "Before I lose the blood circulation in my arm."

Hermione laughed and retrieved the coat from his hand.

"Don't you remember this place?" Draco asked as he took a swig of firewhiskey.

"Refresh my memory please." Hermione replied.

"We were in here a year ago when we wanted to get away from the racket at home," Draco answered, setting his drink on the bar table slowly. "Theo Nott's son was awfully cranky, I couldn't stand it."

"Ah, little Jonathan," she chortled good-naturedly as she sipped her Butterbeer. "He was a handful."

"Yes, he was," Draco nodded. "That was one of the good moments in our marriage actually."

"We had good moments?" Hermione joked.

"Yes, we did," Draco admitted. "Though we had more disagreements than agreements so it's all right if you don't remember any great memories."

"Thanks for reminding me," Hermione put her hand up as she called for another drink. "I wanted some reassurance that our marriage wasn't completely in shambles."

The barman flicked his wand and out came another glass of Butterbeer.

"Thank you." She called out to the barman.

"To our less than perfect marriage." Draco clinked glasses with his ex-wife.

"But at least it wasn't in shambles." Hermione added.

"And I wouldn't have it any other way." Draco voiced.

Hermione blushed.

"I wouldn't have had it any other way either." Hermione replied.

After a few more drinks, Hermione and Draco left the bar and decided to take a long walk back to Hermione's place. Although the heels were a bother for Hermione, she had forgotten the pain for a while because of the meaningful conversation she was sharing with her ex-husband.

"How's work by the way?" Draco glanced at Hermione who was walking beside him.

"Do you really want to know?"

"Well, I'd actually like to hear if you're as boring as your friends," Draco admitted. "I'm doing a comparison study."

"You are sick!" Hermione smacked his arm.

"Easy, Granger," Draco smiled. "I jest. You are quite interesting to talk to."

"And you're trying to butter up your snide remark with that?"

"No, it's true," Draco protested. "I've never enjoyed a conversation with a woman before, not that I'm implying any sexism here…"

"And I'm flattered? Is that what you want me to say?" Hermione giggled.

"Well, yes."

"Well, I'm flattered, Mr. Malfoy." Hermione curtsied.

Draco laughed, bent his head down, and looked at a smiling Hermione. Ringlets of hair were falling on her face again and he felt his eyes watch again as Hermione tucked them all in perfectly.

"You look decent for someone who's supposed to be overworked." Draco commented as they arrived at Hermione's doorstep.

"Thank you." Hermione crinkled her eyebrows, wondering if that was a compliment.

"Are you still going to welcome me in?" Draco smiled as Hermione fumbled for her keys.

"If you want to," Hermione nodded. "But I have a good load of boxes around so watch out…"

"Boxes?" Draco suddenly felt his stomach sink. "Already? You've still got a good six weeks left."

"But you know me," Hermione glanced absentmindedly at the splayed boxes surrounding her living area. "I like to pack meticulously."

"Of course."

As Draco settled onto the couch, he watched Hermione pack some dishes into the box atop the dinner table and he then took notice of her tamed brown curly mane, her porcelain skin, her toned arms, her yellow dress that stopped short at her knees, her long legs…

Draco suddenly found it hard to breathe.

"Granger?"

"Hmm?" she was looking directly at him, clutching a plate.

"I was just wondering why you aren't using magic for this packing thing," Draco avoided her magnetic gaze. "Don't you have a wand?"

"That was the first thing I thought of," Hermione replied immediately and then turned away to pack the plate in. "But my _Accio_ charm puts too much distance when it throws objects at me so I pack the Muggle way. Avoids accidents."

She turned around and smiled briefly.

"What time is it?"

Hermione murmured, "_Accio time!"_ and green numbers flashed in front of her.

"Ah," she smiled. "We're miraculously early today. Two AM."

"Big improvement."

"Yes, it is." Hermione replied.

"I should be heading out."

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked. "Let's wait until four again. Maybe you'll have another epiphany."

"Must you jest?" Draco laughed as Hermione walked him to the door.

He opened it and stepped outside while Hermione's head stuck out.

He was about to step off the porch step when he turned around.

"I'm just curious," Draco asked and Hermione flushed again as hair fell on his grey eyes. "Who's Alexandre Lefevre?"

Hermione could have sworn she heard her heart break.

"A French lover?" Draco continued jokingly although he felt a brief, numbing pain in his stomach.

"No," Hermione shook her head and she looked down. "Nothing like that."

"What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier," Hermione inhaled. "I have to be in France for two weeks."

Draco suddenly felt dizzy and he heard clanging noises in his ears.

"You what?"


End file.
